


even though the chair legs are crooked

by flywithturtles (greenet)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Grown up drinking too, High School, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Retail, Small Towns, Underage Drinking, but mostly there's kissing, meet the parents, talk about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8420395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenet/pseuds/flywithturtles
Summary: Yuusuke leaned over and gently pushed Makoto’s glasses up. For one breathless moment Makoto thought Yuusuke was going to kiss him, right there at the back of Shimada Mart, where anybody could theoretically see them, even if the only living creature in sight right then was Ryuugazaki-san’s mean cat. In the past, Makoto would already be pulling away, talking about everything and nothing, but right now he just waited, not moving, not sure if he wanted Yuusuke to kiss him or not. Not sure what he would do if Yuusuke did.    Yuusuke smiled and stepped back, shoving his hands into his hoodie. “I’ll see you later, hey?”    Makoto could breathe again, but his pulse was pounding, and he wanted to say something, tell Yuusuke… He wasn’t sure exactly what. Something. Instead he just nodded. “Yeah, later.”-What if Makoto and Yuusuke actually did go on dates to see Karasuno play volleyball?





	1. So Much Past in My Present

**Author's Note:**

> So much love to @littlerhymes <3<3 I would never have finished this if she hadn't been there encouraging me every step of the way and telling me that at least one other person liked this thing.
> 
> This started out as a take-your-fandom-to-work thing and grew... a LOT. So there's a lot of Japanese small town retail by way of Norwegian small town retail. Adjust your expectations accordingly. This is anime canon inspired, so if manga straight up contradicts me shhhhh we're ignoring that.
> 
> (I mean, for all I know both Yuusuke and Makoto can be married to wonderful ladies with four kids each. But we're ignoring that! This is fanfic! I can do what I want! ...What I want is apparently ten years of pining... I may be a terrible person.)
> 
> Chapter 1 title: Past in Present by Feist.
> 
> This is done, I'm just editing it, so I'll be posting at least weekly from now on.

Makoto woke up a minute before his alarm went off at 6:05. He spent that minute trying to talk himself into rolling out of bed. He still didn’t move until the alarm actually went off. 

He shuffled into the bathroom, peed, and then brushed his teeth while checking his messages. Keishin got up at four almost every day and apparently spent his breakfast texting Makoto. Lately it had been almost all about the Karasuno boys. Makoto found it hilarious how invested Keishin already was, especially since he’d spent weeks bitching about the teacher who’d kept calling him. Now it was more “and sensei got us another practice match! and he was really inspirational the other day, let me ramble at length” _and gosh, isn’t he cute?_ Makoto mentally added with a smirk. This morning’s messages followed the same pattern. 

He also had a series of messages from Yuusuke who never went to bed before three if he could help it. Yuusuke preferred working the late shift at Takinoue Electronics and frequently stopped by Shimada Mart to join Makoto for his morning coffee before stumbling off to bed. He lived a couple of streets away and he seemed to like taking the short walk back and forth before bed. Yuusuke’s messages were usually just random commentary about tv shows he happened to be watching or stray thoughts. He made a face at himself when he caught himself smiling in the mirror. He didn’t like being so obvious. Yuusuke had never said anything, but Makoto was sure he had to know how Makoto felt about him.

Makoto had never told anybody he was gay, but the last couple of years he’d been getting the distinct impression that his closest family knew or at least suspected. There had been a tapering off of “Yamada-san’s daughter is so smart and pretty and would make a wonderful wife for someone, are you listening, Makoto?”, and more comments in the line of “Takinoue is very welcome to join us for the family celebrations, do let him know we’ll be expecting him”, which were awkward for entirely different reasons. 

Possibly, since even his parents seemed to be expecting it now, he should actually ask Yuusuke out at some point, find out if Yuusuke would even be interested in dating. 

They’d fucked around on and off since they were teenagers, but Makoto had spent a lot of time keeping Yuusuke at a careful distance. He had grown up knowing he would end up running Shimada Mart. Take over the family business, with all that implied. He hadn’t been sure he could do it without a wife — maybe one of Keishin’s million cousins — or that his family would accept it if he never married. 

Makoto felt no need to announce to the world who he was dating, but if they were to move on from what they’d been for almost a decade now, then Yuusuke deserved to be at least acknowledged to their closest friends and family. He wasn’t certain that Yuusuke was even interested in dating him. Makoto thought he might be, but for all he knew Yuusuke might be perfectly happy going on like they had for ages.

It was always possible that Yuusuke might not be in love with him at all. Makoto thought he was. He thought the morning coffee, the daily texts, the way Yuusuke’s eyes lit up when they saw each other, and the thousand ways Yuusuke touched him given the opportunity meant that Yuusuke was as in love with Makoto as Makoto was in love with Yuusuke, but he didn’t know that for sure. It wasn’t the kind of thing they talked about.

Makoto spent breakfast replying to the messages he thought deserved a reply and considered his approach. It wasn’t a coffee morning, he could tell by the way Yuusuke’s messages had stopped at 3:54 ( _Why isn’t the sky in neon colours? It’d be pretty_ ). Just as well, really. Monday mornings were always busy. Boxes upon boxes of goods came in stacked on pallets, he had to change the prices, make sure the new sales posters were ready, double-check the duty roster for the week and make sure that Yata had actually cleaned the stockroom as he was supposed to. Yata mostly did, except when he got sidetracked by whichever girl he happened to be dating that week. Yata seemed to be earnestly in love with each and every one for the weeks he was dating them. Makoto would find it more annoying if Yata didn’t also buy all his girlfriends cute presents and therefore either worked extra shifts or bought out Shimada Mart’s stock of cute plushy animals with big eyes. Makoto himself was, as Keishin had pointed out, a black hole of romance. He understood the theoretical appeal enough to make a killing at Christmas and Valentine’s Day, but personally it did nothing for him.

“Just as well that you have no interest in dating properly,” Keishin had said, blowing smoke into the air. They’d been hanging out in Keishin’s backyard, for no good reason other that they all happened to have the time off and it was nicely cool outside. “Otherwise I’d pity the poor fool you’d be in a relationship with.”

“It’s not that I have no interest in dating,” Makoto said. He was sitting on the porch with Yuusuke’s head in his lap, legs stretched out. Yuusuke twisted his head to give him a curious look. Makoto shrugged at both of them. “I like dating fine, I just don’t see what’s so great about candy and flowers and hearts on everything.” He made the effort whenever he _was_ dating somebody and he knew they expected it, but he’d just as well not if it was up to him. 

“Huh. Yeah, okay. I get that, I guess.” Yuusuke had sounded thoughtful. 

Keishin, who was not so secretly the world’s biggest sap, had looked skeptical. 

Makoto shook his head slightly, letting the memory fade. He pulled his apron over his head and checked his pockets: boxcutter, three pens, a post-it pad, kleenex, tape and four old labels. He threw the labels in the trash. 

All right, he was ready for the day to start.

* * *

Yata had tidied the stockroom and left a note requesting Saturday off. Should be okay — possibly Tadashi could take over. The kid had been hinting quite strongly that he wouldn’t be adverse to some part-time work if he could fit it in between school and volleyball. Makoto was prepared to give him a chance. Not that he expected Tadashi to be anything but scrupulously conscientious. From experience he knew that he could tell Tadashi to practice his jump float a hundred times before breakfast and the kid would do it. Makoto couldn’t imagine Tadashi would be different working in the store.

This decided, Makoto nudged his glasses into place and squinted down at the completed order form attached to one of the pallets. Or rather at the lines informing him of the buns that hadn’t arrived this week but would for sure be shipped with next week’s order. Makoto sighed. Normally he wouldn’t mind, but those buns happened to be old Ryuugazaki-san’s favorites, and Ryuugazaki-san didn’t appreciate not getting her favorites. Makoto made a mental note to be somewhere else around 9:15. He felt no regrets about throwing tiny cousin Koharu to the metaphorical wolves. If she wanted to work in retail, she needed to learn to deal with old stubborn women. Old stubborn men too, for that matter. 

While he went through the morning’s admin, what to do about Yuusuke was constantly simmering in the back of his mind. He could probably come up with a romantic date option to present to Yuusuke if he tried, but Yuusuke would know he was faking. And Yuusuke wasn’t all that romantic either. At least Makoto didn’t think so. They’d been friends forever, but Makoto hadn’t seriously considered Yuusuke and romance before so it hadn’t seemed important to know. It hadn’t seemed relevant.

He hadn’t been in love with Yuusuke before. He probably could have been, but he’d never allowed himself to be. Even though he knew the warmth he felt towards Yuusuke ranged from the bright burning need when they fucked to the comfortable glow when they were just hanging out, he had never acknowledged what the way he lit up around Yuusuke really meant.

Well, that was changing now. 

The first step had been admitting to himself how he felt. The second, he hoped, would be dating.

They both liked volleyball, but Makoto couldn’t really think of anything else they both enjoyed going out to do aside from eating. Yuusuke like electronica, Makoto liked trashy pop, Yuusuke was into anything meta and intertextual, Makoto liked stand-up. Not very compatible, especially since Makoto wasn’t desperate enough to sit through another hour of something where you needed knowledge of The Tale of Genji, obscure anime from the 90s, weird Austrian cop shows and futuristic technology in order to understand what the hell was going on. Yuusuke had loved it. Makoto had been surreptitiously checking volleyball scores on his phone for 45 minutes and sworn never to let Yuusuke drag him to anything ever again without thoroughly Googling it first. 

Volleyball…

Keishin had sent him the upcoming schedule for Karasuno’s matches as a silent plea for support. He could ask Yuusuke to come with him — make it clear that it could be a date if Yuusuke wanted it to be, or just a trip to support the old school (and Keishin and Tadashi) if he didn’t. Makoto couldn’t imagine that anything would make it awkward between them, not after this long, not even Yuusuke turning him down. He still found himself going over the phrasing in his mind as he stacked toilet paper. How was he going to ask? What was he going to say? 

He’d just started to get it right when Rino interrupted him with a question. 

After that he was too busy to think about anything outside of work.

* * *

Yuusuke came by before starting his shift at the electronics store as usual. Makoto still hadn’t figured out how to raise the subject of them maybe dating. 

“How’s your tiny protege doing?” Yuusuke asked, recognizing Makoto’s distraction even if he was mistaken about the source. 

Makoto narrowed his eyes at him over his coffee. He lowered his mug. “Tiny? He’s taller than I am! Are you calling me short?”

“I would never!” Yuusuke exclaimed, clutching his chest in faux shock. He relaxed again, grinning at Makoto. “And I meant in age, not stature.” 

“You better.” Makoto took a sip of his coffee. He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s not ready to play a match yet, but he’s tenacious and motivated. He’ll get there.”

“It’s still funny that both you and Keishin are mentoring teenagers now. I did not see that coming in a million years.” 

“I don’t think I could handle an entire team full of teenage boys,” Makoto admitted. “But Tadashi is okay.” 

Yuusuke’s small smile told him that he was fooling nobody. Yuusuke knew he liked the kid, was proud of the progress he was making. Makoto didn’t mind. They were sitting on the ramp leading up to the stockroom, idly watching cars leave the parking lot behind Shimada Mart. Makoto scooted a little closer to Yuusuke. They were sitting closer than they had to, but not so close that it was notable. There were a lot of things that were instinctual by now, and knowing exactly how close he could be to Yuusuke and keep it appearing platonic was one of those things.

“All right.” Yuusuke finished his coffee. He put his mug down next to him and stretched his arms over his head. “Time to go convince people that what they really want right now is a new camera. Possibly in teal.”

Makoto laughed. He turned his face up, feeling his glasses slide down his nose. “I thought the color of the week was cerise?” 

“No, that was _last_ week.” 

Yuusuke leaned over and gently pushed Makoto’s glasses up. For one breathless moment Makoto thought Yuusuke was going to kiss him, right there at the back of Shimada Mart, where anybody could theoretically see them, even if the only living creature in sight right then was Ryuugazaki-san’s mean cat. In the past, Makoto would already be pulling away, talking about everything and nothing, but right now he just waited, not moving, not sure if he wanted Yuusuke to kiss him or not. Not sure what he would do if Yuusuke did. 

Yuusuke smiled and stepped back, shoving his hands into his hoodie. “I’ll see you later, hey?” 

Makoto could breathe again, but his pulse was pounding, and he wanted to say something, tell Yuusuke… He wasn’t sure exactly what. Something. Instead he just nodded. “Yeah, later.”

* * *

#### THEN: MAKOTO AT 16

Makoto, Yuusuke and Keishin had gravitated together in high school. They’d known about each other, been in some of the same classes before, been to some of the same volleyball tournaments, but they hadn’t really hung out until they all joined Karasuno’s volleyball team and discovered that they had a lot in common and got along great. 

Makoto hadn't known _this_ about Yuusuke until Yuusuke got drunk during a party held to celebrate one of their wins, pulled him into a dark corner and kissed him. Makoto had kissed back in surprise, then, when Yuusuke moaned and tangled his hands into Makoto’s hair, he’d curled his hands into Yuusuke’s hoodie and pulled him closer, heart hammering in his chest. They’d spent the rest of the night making out in Tatsu’s parents’ laundry room. 

He’d figured out about Keishin when Keishin’s eyes kept lingering a little too long on Naoi’s ass during their matches with Nekoma. The looking itself could be innocent enough; it was more Keishin’s reaction to being caught that tipped Makoto off. Keishin reddened, looked away quickly, and spent the next match clearly trying not to look at Naoi at all. 

He knew that Yuusuke thought it was hilarious, the way the three of them had found each other without having had any idea that they were sort of the same. 

“I think we might be the gayest volleyball team in the prefecture,” Yuusuke mused. He was laying on Makoto’s bed with his legs extending up the wall, the tips of his toes poking Makoto’s bookshelf. It was a position only a teenager would find comfortable. “Possibly in all of Japan.” 

“You like girls though,” Makoto pointed out. He’d crashed out on the floor next to Yuusuke. He was holding a manga in his left hand and absently poking Yuusuke’s arm with his right. 

“Mmhm. Sometimes, sure.” Yuusuke shrugged his shoulders. “Girls are nice and I like flirting; can’t really do that with guys around here. Well.” He turned his head to give Makoto a sly grin. “There’s you, I guess, but you’re not very sweet or girly.”

Makoto snorted. “You should flirt with Keishin sometime if you want sweet. I bet he’d have no idea what to do if you did.”

Yuusuke laughed. “Oh, I so should! That’d be hilarious.” He twisted his arm around until he could press his palm against Makoto’s. Yuusuke’s hand was calloused and warm. “It’s just guys with him, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Makoto said, though he suspected the same. Makoto preferred boys, but wasn’t completely uninterested in girls, Yuusuke liked both equally, as far as Makoto could tell, and Keishin had never showed an interest in a girl aside from mumbling agreement that random popular singers were really pretty, sure, and big boobs were the best, absolutely. 

“Do you think he’ll move away?” 

“No,” Makoto said flatly. He looked down at his manga. “I think he’ll stay and marry some nice girl and run the family store, just like we will.” 

Yuusuke was quiet, then he laughed again. “Yeah, I guess we’ll all have to grow up some day.” He nudged his fingers between Makoto’s, lacing their hands together and pulling. “But it doesn’t have to be today, does it?”

* * *

#### NOW

“Do you ever regret staying?” he asked Keishin when they met up after work. Keishin had less free time now but he managed to squeeze in dinner with Makoto before coaching the Karasuno volleyball club. 

Keishin tilted his head at him. “What do you mean?”

“Like, not leaving this place and going to the city, going to university, that kind of thing.” Makoto gestured in the vague direction of Tokyo. “Working at Sakanoshita store, hanging out with the same guys you’ve been hanging out with forever, having your parents set you up with eligible bachelorettes every other month…”

Keishin shook his head. “No. I mean, I could do without the single women, but, no, not really.” He frowned at Makoto. “Why, do you?”

The answer to that was complicated. Makoto hesitated in answering. Leaving had never occurred to him as a valid option — he’d structured his whole life in the knowledge that he would stay and run the store once his parents retired — but that hadn’t kept him from fantasizing about it. Imaging what it would be like to have a small flat in a nice suburb, going to university to study accounting or something, finding some nice boy or girl his parents would never approve of to date, talking to his family only on big holidays… But he’d never wanted that potential alternate life enough to leave the one he had: Shimada Mart, his parents, his extended family, Yuusuke and Keishin and the Neighborhood Association, the town itself where strangers smiled and nodded to him when they saw him because they recognized him from the shop — it was a good life. It wasn’t as big or as bright as the life he could have had in a city, where he’d have a lot of options, a lot of opportunities to do something different, but Makoto had never wanted that. He liked the quiet, he liked routine, he liked knowing everybody. It was nice.

He’d expected to eventually meet some nice girl and settle down with her, have two children and maybe a cat, but the closer that became to reality, the less he wanted to go through with it. 

He had dated Keishin’s cousin Shiori for a while a couple of years back. Shiori was pragmatic and stunning. They got along well, his parents liked her, he’d kissed her enough times to know that they had some chemistry. He wouldn’t have to force himself to be with her. In the back of his head, he suspected that it was because Shiori resembled Keishin. She was curvier, had less angry eyebrows, and never dyed her hair, but her facial features were a feminine version of Keishin’s, assuring that nobody would ever describe her as cute. He’d never had more than an idle interest in Keishin himself, but apparently that still did the trick. 

“I want children,” Shiori had said abruptly. Makoto had invited her over for tea, with the tentative plan of finding out what she thought of getting engaged in the near future. 

Makoto had nodded. “Of course.” 

Unlike Keishin she could actually hide her feelings well enough, but then Shiori had looked a little surprised. “You would be willing to father my children? Aren’t you like Keishin?”

It was the closest anybody had ever come to asking Makoto if he was hella gay. He had shrugged, avoiding the question. “I want children as well. My family expects it. It wouldn’t be a problem.” 

Shiori had given him a thoughtful look. She had lifted her teacup to her mouth. “I see.” 

In the end, they’d come to an amicable break up. His parents had been more upset about it than Makoto had been. Yuusuke had started staying the night again whenever they hooked up, so Makoto was secretly rather pleased about it. He’d never asked Yuusuke about his personal rules when it came to hooking up with Makoto, but he clearly had them, and one of them was that he never stayed the night when Makoto was Officially Dating a girl. It was always understood that his relationships wouldn’t be exclusive, but he’d be discreet and expected the same from whoever he’d been dating. It had worked, it had pacified his parents and kept rumors about him from circulating. 

Yuusuke dated only occasionally but when he did, Makoto didn’t stay the night either. He felt more uncomfortable about sleeping with Yuusuke when he was dating somebody than when Makoto himself did it, despite knowing that Yuusuke always made it clear that he wouldn’t be monogamous. Ichika, who worked part time at the electronics store, had stayed around the longest, but she had moved to go to school somewhere, and Yuusuke hadn’t dated after that. 

They were both officially single now. 

Makoto finally shook in head in answer to Keishin’s question. “No, not really. There are things I can’t do here, of course, but I don’t regret staying.” 

Keishin nodded. He looked down at his cigarette. “Are you going to get married? I mean, eventually?”

Makoto eyed him. Keishin avoided talking about marriage — any marriage — like the plague. “Are your parents nagging you again?”

Keishin sighed. He frowned which made him look angrier than he was. “I want to just tell them. I know I can’t, I know they won’t understand, but…”

“They might surprise you,” Makoto said. He completely understood the dubious look Keishin gave him. He’d dated more girls than Keishin ever had because he had thought that his parents would never understand. Some of them, like Shiori, he had genuinely liked, but he had to admit that most of them had been for show. Keishin, who was unable to fake anything, had never even tried. 

“ _Your_ parents might, _my_ parents have been asking for grandchildren since I was twenty-one.” 

“True.” 

Keishin’s mother was a lovely woman otherwise, but she was clearly eyeing her siblings’ grandchildren jealously and craving her own. Probably more now that Shiori was expecting as well. 

“Mom’s been bringing up her uncle Shintaro a lot lately,” Keishin added after a moments comfortable silence. 

Makoto blinked at him. “Isn’t that the one you think…?” _is like us._ He was too used in talking in ellipses around his — their — sexuality when he talked to Keishin. He couldn’t quite break the habit.

“Yeah.” Keishin looked awkward. “Yes, I think… Apparently uncle Shintaro’s young friend Neji is a very nice young man. He’s fifty-three by the way. He’s older than _she_ is. But it’s the way she says it and then _looks_ at me.”

“Ah.” Makoto was getting very familiar with those looks. “You think she knows?”

Keishin blushed, blotchily and unattractive. “She’s maybe caught me mooning over… over… Well, you know.”

Makoto gave him a quick glance, judging Keishin’s state of mind to see how much teasing he could handle. Keishin could be surprisingly fragile at times. “Your adorable sensei?”

Keishin blushed hotter. He nodded mutely. 

“Are you two actually—“ Makoto started, curious.

“No! No, we’re not — how would that even work? He’s probably not even interested, anyway, and it’d be awkward, and we couldn’t— because of the boys, you know, and—” Keishin’s babble died down as Makoto’s eyebrows rose. Keishin looked down. There was a sudden sad pull to his mouth Makoto didn’t like seeing. “We’d have to hide it and apparently I can’t even hide that I _like_ him, so how do you think that would go? For either of us?”

Keishin had a point. Keishin was a fluff ball underneath the aggressive exterior. He was a sucker for all the hearts and flower stuff Makoto found baffling. He would want to romance his precious sensei. Keishin would never be able to hide a relationship from anybody, least of all the people who knew him. 

“Maybe he wouldn’t mind?”

Keishin stared at him. 

“Well, have you asked him?” Makoto said. 

“No,” Keishin said, still staring. “Because I haven’t completely lost my mind. Did you hear a thing I just said?” 

Makoto nodded. “I did. But I think maybe it’s worth it to try? The worst he can say is no, right?” 

“You’re clearly lacking imagination,” Keishin said flatly. “Also, what’s wrong with you? You’re being—“ he gestured towards Makoto with his cigarette, “—Very weird. For you.”

“I’m just feeling good about the world right now.”

Keishin narrowed his eyes at him. 

“You’re my friend and I want you to have good things,” Makoto said defensively. Keishin was right, though. Usually he’d never encourage this kind of thing, too aware of everything that could go wrong, but with how he’d realized he felt about Yuusuke and wanting to ask him out on a proper date, well, he’d turned optimistic, both on his own and Keishin’s behalf. 

Keishin shook his head. He snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Life’s pretty good; I can’t complain.” He straightened and plastered on a smile so fake Makoto couldn’t believe Keishin thought he’d buy it. “Anyway, I’ll get over it; I always do.”


	2. Thinking About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto finally asks Yuusuke out on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be spending the day glaring at my assignment, so I thought at least by posting this I'll feel accomplished at _something_ today. 
> 
> Chapter title: Thinking About It (Let it go) - KVR Remix by Nathan Goshen, KVR
> 
> Hope you like it!

Yuusuke had talked him into going to the practice match, but they had no agreement about going to the other matches. They’d both have to arrange for time off — luckily (?) they were both known volleyball nerds so nobody would really question it. Make fun of, yes; question, no. 

All Makoto had to do was ask. 

Makoto was well aware it really shouldn’t be as complicated as he was making it. It was the second day in a row he had been thinking about this, about how to ask so Yuusuke would say yes. He wished his customers would stop inconsiderately interrupting his train of thought.

He gave Honda-san a frozen smile while he looked at the paintbrush the man had brought back. “…We sold those last year.”

“Yes? And? What do you mean?” Honda-san said aggressively. The man was a pain, and, unfortunately, the younger brother of one of Makoto’s dad’s best friends. Makoto’s dad could send him packing with a word, but Makoto could not. 

“I’m afraid that you can no longer exchange it for another.” 

Honda-san ripped the paintbrush out of his grasp. He was red with frustrated anger. “Your father—“ but he cut himself off, apparently realizing that Makoto’s dad would laugh in his face. One day Makoto too would be an disagreeable old man — he was really looking forward to it. At the moment he watched uncaringly as Honda-san stomped off.

Koharu looked shellshocked when he glanced over at her. He couldn't help the twitch of amusement. “You’ll have to get used to people yelling at you for things you can’t actually do anything about.” 

“But he didn’t have to be so angry about it,” she blurted out, eyes still wide. The big eyes and the fluffy ponytails over her ears made her look like a particularly woeful puppy. Makoto felt the urge to pat her on the head. He ruthlessly suppressed it. 

“Yes, well, most of our customers are nice people. Just remember that, and you’ll be fine. And call me if anybody else wants money back or something.”

He went to the stock rooms where Yata should be rolling in right about now. Yata was perfectly capable of handling the register if he had to, but he preferred not to. Since Yata kept the stockroom in order and could lift anything, Makoto didn’t mind. “You can have Saturday off, but I want you to show Tadashi-kun what it is you do,” Makoto told him.

Yata beamed. “Awesome! I can do that! That’s the kid you’re teaching, right?”

Makoto nodded. 

“He’s getting stronger,” Yata said. He rubbed the back of his head. “He nailed me in the head the other day. Hurt like a son of a bitch.”

Makoto smiled proudly.

* * *

He stopped by Takinoue Electronics on his way home and dragged Yuusuke with him to the local McDonalds. Sometimes Western fast food was the only thing that would do. Mostly, though, Makoto just wanted the cheap milkshake. 

Yuusuke grinned at him. “You like those way too much.”

“I like them the appropriate amount considering how cheap and tasty they are,” Makoto corrected. 

They ate in silence. 

“You’re not dating anybody right now, are you?” 

Yuusuke blinked at him over his cheeseburger. “No?”

“You want to date me?” After stressing about how to phrase it, Makoto had decided that being as clear and concise as possible was the way to go to make sure Yuusuke knew what he was asking and didn’t misunderstand him. 

Yuusuke blinked again. He finished his cheeseburger, wiped his fingers on the napkin he’d grabbed from the counter, and then folded his hands on the table and stared at Makoto. “Okay, explain.”

“What?” Makoto literally couldn’t have been more straightforward. He knew that for a fact. “Neither of us are dating anybody else right now, my parents already invite you to everything, so I thought why not?”

“Why not?” Yuusuke didn’t get angry the way Keishin did, all sturm und drang, but he did get angry. He was scowling now, glaring at Makoto. “After a decade of—“ he cut himself off, but Makoto understood what he meant, knew Yuusuke was thinking of all the times Makoto had distanced himself from Yuusuke because he had to, because they could never be anything other than very good friends, “—and now it’s suddenly easy? Now it’s ‘why not’? What the fuck, Makoto? Your _parents_ like me?” 

Put like that Makoto got why Yuusuke was less instantly on board than he’d thought (hoped) he would be. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said placatingly. “I _like_ you, you know I do.” If Yuusuke didn’t know… There was a moment of sharp blinding fear. But Yuusuke _had_ to know how Makoto felt. He couldn’t have misunderstood their relationship that badly, could he?

Yuusuke nodded after a moment. “I know.”

Makoto was more relieved to hear that than he’d ever expected. “I’m asking because I want to try it, not because you’re convenient.”

“But you still want to marry some day?”

“I… don’t know.” The answer was that he was leaning closer to no every day, he just hadn’t completely decided against it. It felt like giving up on something he’d maybe not been that excited about, but still something he’d looked forward to a little. He’d always wanted somebody to share his life with. He watched Yuusuke bite his lip, the brief but distinct flash of pain crossing his features, and made up his mind. He couldn’t ask Yuusuke to take a chance on this without being fully committed himself. “No. No, I don’t think I ever will.” 

Yuusuke stared at him, eyes widening, lips parting. He was clearly surprised. 

“But I thought, if you wanted, we could start by going to see Karasuno play, and not sleeping with anybody else, and, and staying the night. Just, small steps. But if it works out between us, that would be… I’d like that,” Makoto finished with awkward honesty. 

Yuusuke tilted his head in consideration. He was starting to smile a little and was leaning over the table now, seemingly wanting to be closer to Makoto. That seemed like a good sign. “I guess we have already spent the last four Christmases together…” Accidentally-on-purpose, Makoto always thought. He’d never cared about the romance of Christmas, but he’d also never made any plans, knowing that Yuusuke would show up sooner or later with a suggestion for something to do or just a stack of movies for them to watch. 

“Six if you count Keishin.”

“While I wouldn’t kick Keishin out of bed, I do not.” 

Makoto gave Yuusuke an interested look, unable to keep himself from teasing, wanting to break the serious mood they’d found themselves in. He knew it was necessary, that they needed to talk this out if they were going to try it, but the tense atmosphere between them just felt wrong. “You’re into Keishin?”

“Not like that!” Yuusuke yelped, laughing when Makoto did. Yuusuke smirked once the laughter died down. “I kissed him once, did you know that?”

“No! When?” Makoto leaned over the table. It wasn’t often that his friends could blindside him like this. There wasn’t any feeling of jealousy involved; instead Makoto was torn between curious and amused. Yuusuke and Keishin? “How did that happen?”

“Ah, long ago. Third year in high school before we stopped playing volleyball. You remember, back when he had that enormous crush on the Nekoma guy?”

“Yeah, I remember. How that wasn’t obvious to the entire world I don’t know.”

“Anyway, Keishin had already walked in on us by then so he knew we were messing around. You remember what a dork he was in high school?” 

“He’s still a dork.”

Yuusuke grinned. “He’s less desperately talking about boobs these days though.”

“I’d forgotten about that!”

* * *

#### THEN: YUUSUKE at 17

Seventeen year old Keishin’s bedroom walls were covered in posters featuring models with big breasts and little to no clothing, players from Japan’s last National volleyball team, photos of Karasuno’s team members, and carefully framed prints by Hokusai and Sesshu. Yuusuke thought it looked like someone was trying very hard to be a stereotypical teenage boy and subtly failing. Keishin had always been like that though. Always trying so hard to hide how soft he really was. When he was unsure, he fronted like a champion, getting loud and brash, trying to be like his grandfather. It was so easy to see through Yuusuke was amazed that more people didn’t. 

“Have you ever even kissed anybody?” Yuusuke ask idly, looking away from the computer screen, where the main couple was locked in a passionate embrace, in time to catch Keishin’s blush. Yuusuke grinned. “Oh man, are you serious? Really? Not even at training camp?” Training camp wasn’t a non-stop sex fest but it was a good opportunity for some low-key experimenting with people you didn’t have to see every day at school. At least, that’s how Yuusuke thought about it. 

Keishin hit him. “Shut up! Who would I kiss there? I’m not—I don’t—”

“One of the managers?” Yuusuke suggested. “Aoba Johsai’s is pretty cute. Oh, I forgot, no big boobs on her.” 

Keishin’s face was red from his chin to his shaved head. He was sputtering, either in agreement or in denial, Yuusuke couldn’t quite tell. He stopped watching the tv show entirely; Keishin was way more entertaining.

“Or maybe Johzenji’s manager?”

“That’s a boy!” 

“But a very pretty one,” Yuusuke nodded, grinning wide. “Gives great head too.” 

Keishin stopped sputtering, apparently too surprised to keep it up. “You hooked up with Fujita?” Ah, so he _had_ noticed the pretty manager. Nekoma’s substitute setter hadn’t been the only boy he’d noticed. Though, to be fair, Fujita was _very_ pretty and very flirty; he was hard to ignore. 

Yuusuke nodded. “Good times.” 

Keishin scowled at him, dark eyebrows meeting. “Aren’t you and Makoto… You know, a thing?”

Yuusuke realized that Keishin was upset on Makoto’s behalf. It was weirdly sweet. He nudged his shoulder comfortingly against Keishin’s. “It’s not like that with us, we’re just friends who hook up on occasion.” Yuusuke grinned again. “Did you think we were boyfriends?”

“No!” Keishin protested, though his expression clearly said yes. He seemed disappointed.

“Makoto is going to take over Shimada Mart, marry some girl and have some kids to make his parents happy. There’s no room in that for me.” He kept his voice light and breezy. He didn’t think Keishin could pick up on the traces of hurt that lingered from realizing that Makoto was serious about his plan for the future. That if he wanted Makoto at all he had to accept that, let go of his stupid daydreams, and stay realistic.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Keishin said. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” Yuusuke shrugged, turning back to the tv show. He knew he’d been describing Keishin’s future as much as Makoto’s, but Makoto at least knew what it was like to kiss a guy. He eyed Keishin speculatively out of the corner of his eye.

He waited until the show was over, then rolled onto his knees, shifting until he was sitting in front of Keishin. 

“Um?” 

“Wanna make out?”

Keishin’s eyes widened in shock. “With—with you?”

“Yes. I’m not offering make outs with people not me.” Yuusuke tilted his head, waiting. 

“I like girls!” Keishin blurted out. “Girls who are pretty, and, and nice, and boobs and, that—that’s what I like!”

Yuusuke couldn’t resist the slight raise of his eyebrows at that. He didn’t say anything though. The point of this wasn’t to make Keishin feel bad about himself. Yuusuke thought that Keishin had to be curious, that was all. “I won’t tell anybody. You have way more dirt on me anyway, so that’d be stupid. I just thought… It might be fun? If you want. It’s up to you.” 

To Yuusuke’s amusement, Keishin went bright red again. After a long moment he met Yuusuke’s eyes and, still red, nodded slightly. He had insecure teenager written all over his face but he seemed sure. Yuusuke had expected further protestations of straightness — Keishin always got super defensive whenever somebody implied that he wasn’t — but he wasn’t going to complain about this being easy.

Yuusuke placed his hands on Keishin’s face, holding him in place as he leaned in. More careful with Keishin than he’d ever been with Makoto. He could be careful with Keishin because he mattered less, there was no danger of Yuusuke accidentally saying something he shouldn’t or _feeling_ something he shouldn’t. He held Keishin’s gaze until their lips met and Keishin’s eyes closed.

* * *

#### NOW

“You were Keishin’s first kiss?” 

“Yep.”

“I… really don’t know what to say to that.” Makoto was trying to suppress his giggles. Just the mental image of awkward teenage Keishin and Yuusuke making out was amusing. Teenage him might have found it hot, if he’d known, but twenty-six year old Makoto just found it funny. It had been so long ago.

Yuusuke had his face propped up on his hand, elbow on the table. His eyes were crinkling in mirth. His face had softened while he’d been talking about Keishin, and right now he exuded an amused warmth. It was a good look on him. “You think I should tell Takeda?” 

“Yes, yes, I most definitely think you should.” Makoto knew Yuusuke never would unless he knew for certain that Keishin’s sensei wouldn’t take it the wrong way. “Maybe after their next match?”

“You’re serious? About the date?” 

“Yeah. You can think about it if you want. It doesn’t have to be a date, if you don’t want it to be. It’s okay if you need time,” Makoto continued, trying to keep his voice level and sincere. “It’s okay if you decide that that’s not something you want to deal with too.” 

Yuusuke toyed with Makoto’s milkshake straw. “No. I want it to be,” he said finally. “I… I’m definitely okay with it being a date.”

* * *

Makoto’s overnight messages were full of Yuusuke’s usual tv observations, middle of the night stray thoughts, and finally _Ur still serious?_ Makoto was starting to get the impression that Yuusuke might have had feelings for him for a while, longer than Makoto had suspected. He wasn’t sure what to do about that. Yuusuke has always been one of his easiest relationships, asking nothing from Makoto that Makoto wasn’t prepared to give. The idea that Yuusuke had been pining after him was a ridiculous one. Yuusuke slept around a lot — he wouldn’t have done that if he’d been pining, would he? No, that made no sense. 

Makoto chewed on his morning power bar, thinking, before messaging Yuusuke back an affirmative. He hesitated, then, rolling his eyes at himself, added a string of heart emoji and a smiley face. He regretted it as soon as he’d sent the message. 

When he showed up for morning coffee at Shimada Mart an hour later, Yuusuke was grinning. 

“What?” Makoto smiled back involuntarily. 

“Just… Heart emoji, Makoto? What are you, a teenager? My mom?” 

Makoto felt himself turn pink in the cheeks. “Shut up, I hate you, you’re stupid.” He retreated from the gate opening. He sulked over his hot coffee, looking up when Yuusuke just stood in front of him, smirking at him. “What?” he said again, defensively. He didn’t need Yuusuke making fun of him over stupid emoji. Yuusuke knew he was bad at this. 

The smirk softened to a smile, and then Yuusuke was backing him into a stack of boxes filled with coffee, dog food and cooking oil. He watched him for a moment, still with that fond smile, before bending his head and kissing Makoto sweetly. Yuusuke was still smiling when they separated. 

“Don’t kiss me in public,” Makoto grouched at him, flushing, and not moving his hands from where they had ended up on Yuusuke’s ass. 

“We’re not in public,” Yuusuke pointed out. They were far enough into the stock room that even with the gate open, they were in no danger of being seen by people randomly choosing to walk into their back alley. He stole another kiss. Makoto had seen him with Ichika often enough to recognize Yuusuke in dating mode. He had not expected the warm flush he got all over from seeing Yuusuke behave like this over him. Maybe he could have had this version of Yuusuke for a while, but Makoto hadn’t been ready before. He wasn’t sure he was ready now. He wanted to be, though. 

“Well, Yata could come any minute now,” Makoto tried.

Yuusuke scoffed at that. “He won’t show up until two minutes before his shift starts and you know it.” 

That was true. 

“Somebody else then,” Makoto said. 

“Nah.” Yuusuke let him go with obvious reluctance. His eyes were shining. “You sent me heart emoji, Makoto. You hate that stuff.”

“I do. …But you don’t.” 

Yuusuke could and would hold entire conversations just using emoji. It hadn’t been difficult to figure out that he’d like this. However awkward Makoto was about it, he thought that Yuusuke would appreciate the attempt. Apparently he did.

* * *

#### THEN: MAKOTO AT 25

“I assume you’re bringing Takinoue-kun, Makoto?”

Makoto looked up from his book and blinked at his mother. “To what? To where?”

Michiko gave him a patient look. “To grandfather Satoshi’s birthday celebration. What have we been talking about for the last hour?” To be accurate, she had been talking and Makoto had nodded vaguely whenever there was a pause to show that he was listening. He absolutely hadn’t been. 

“I thought it was supposed to be a family thing?” There was a jolt of surprise he couldn’t quite suppress. His mother couldn’t possibly be saying what Makoto thought she was saying. That was impossible. As far as Makoto was aware his parents thought of homosexuality as a ‘city thing’. There was no way the idea of Makoto and Yuusuke together would even enter their mind as a possibility. 

Michiko nodded. “Yes, family and the people closest to them.” She nodded again, apparently satisfied with her explanation, before bending over her laptop to scrutinize the guest list and possible table seating options again. 

“Yuusuke isn’t…” Makoto began and wasn’t sure where he was going with his denial. Yuusuke was his closest friend, and he wasn’t dating anybody at the moment. But still. He would’ve expected his mother to try matching him up with some distantly related cousin before allowing him to bring a friend. A male friend, even. “Are you sure?”

“Can’t put auntie next to cousin Ryoko, we’d never hear the end of it,” Michiko muttered to herself. “What, dear?”

“I can bring Yuusuke?”

“Yes, of course,” Michiko said distractedly, too busy staring at the list of names to pay attention to her son. “Didn’t you bring him to the last three family gatherings? I just assumed—is there someone else you’d rather bring?” She looked up again finally, frowning a little. 

Makoto shook his head. “No. There’s nobody. I’ll ask him.” 

“Good. That fixes that.” 

Makoto had brought Yuusuke to the last three big family get-togethers, but it hadn’t been intentional. 

He’d intended to bring Shiori to his uncle’s wedding, but then they’d broken up and he’d bribed Yuusuke with food to get him to come along and stop people from asking him about the break-up. 

But he and Yuusuke were friends, everybody knew that. It hadn’t been weird. Nobody had said anything about it. Why would they though? The family grapevine worked very well, thank you, and everybody knew he’d broken up with Shiori long before he turned up with Yuusuke at the wedding. That was in part _why_ he’d asked Yuusuke. If he’d blindsided the family they wouldn’t have had the time to work out questions to ambush him with. Questions like “but why did you break up? I thought you were perfect together!” Yuusuke more than earned the free food by deflecting the questions or just plain dragging Makoto off to talk to somebody else, which left Yuusuke looking kind of rude while Makoto waved apologetically and came off as the perfectly polite one. His mother, who did actually know him, had given him some raised eyebrows, but had let it be. His parents thought he’d taken the break-up much harder than he actually had. 

Makoto didn’t mind that, especially since it kept them from asking him intrusive questions. 

After the wedding one of his cousins had turned thirty and decided this was something to be celebrated, so she’d rented out an entire karaoke bar and insisted that everybody brought a plus one — “That makes it more fun!” At Makoto’s dubious look, she’d added, “also there’ll be an open bar.”

Makoto had thought of Keishin first because Keishin had a tendency to sing without noticing that he was doing it, but Keishin had given him the look of ‘I can’t even begin to describe how firmly my no resonates throughout my entire body’ so Makoto had given up on that. Most of the time Keishin could be talked into things, but then there were those moments where there was no chance in hell he’d change his mind. 

“No, that side of your family is insanely competitive,” Yuusuke said, holding his bowl of ramen in front of his chest like that would protect him. “I don’t know how karaoke can be a competition, but I have faith that they’ll find a way. I don’t want to.”

“No, they won’t,” Makoto lied. 

Yuusuke gave him a skeptical look. 

Makoto sighed. “There’ll be free booze? I’ll sing with you? Come ooooooon,” he whined. He gave Yuusuke his best pleading look. 

Yuusuke narrowed his eyes. “If I do this—“

“Yes! Thank you! You won’t regret it!”

“—Yes, I will, but I was going to say: if I do this, you’re coming with me to the Kabuki-inspired Brecht performance next month.” 

Makoto gave him a horrified look. “No. You wouldn’t.” 

Yuusuke smiled, teeth showing. 

“No! Yuusuke, come on! Karaoke is fun! Kabuki-inspired Brecht does not sound fun.” Actually it sounded excruciatingly pretentious; Yuusuke would probably love it. 

Yuusuke did love it. He also loved the karaoke, so Makoto thought it was really unfair of him to hold Makoto to his promise to see the play. Yuusuke had bought Makoto matcha ice cream afterwards though, so Makoto had ended up forgiving him. 

The third family thing hadn’t been such a large gathering because it had been a picnic for the Shimada Mart employees from all four branches. It had still involved 20-odd members of Makoto’s family and associated others. Yuusuke had turned up with baguettes and eaten most of Michiko’s mackerel dish. He’d gotten her e-mail afterwards so he could ask her for the recipe. It was a little bit odd to see Yuusuke and his mother chatting together. It was also… It made Makoto strangely pleased in ways he couldn’t quite articulate to himself. 

Grandfather Satoshi’s birthday would almost certainly be more fun if Yuusuke was there too.

* * *

#### NOW

Yuusuke came home with him and stayed the night. Makoto stumbled his way through his morning routine the day after, clicking through his phone, wondering absently where the messages from Yuusuke were, before realizing that Yuusuke was still asleep in his bed. He blinked at himself in the mirror. Did love make people into idiots? Because if it did, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted it. 

Then he considered how empty his life would be without Yuusuke in it — and Makoto wasn’t fooling himself. He knew that if they tried this and ended up deciding it wasn’t for them, Yuusuke would do his best to remain his friend, but if Makoto ran scared, denied this before they’d even really begun, Yuusuke would leave him. Yuusuke hadn’t said it, but he knew Yuusuke well enough to know that.

They would stop being all of what they had been. 

That was unacceptable. 

Makoto emphatically did not want Yuusuke to leave him. 

He had always thought that being a part of a couple would, for him, always be a purely pragmatic decision. Maybe, hopefully, he’d be fond of the woman he ended up with, but love seemed like a bit too much to ask. And every depiction of love he saw in popular media, in Yuusuke’s shows, was so over the top, loud and passionately senseless, so _couple-y_ that the very idea of it repelled him.

It wasn’t like that with Yuusuke. He felt more himself with Yuusuke than with anybody else. He felt comfortable with Yuusuke, not struck stupid with a crush the way Keishin was around Takeda. Well. Usually he wasn’t. 

He did wish that Keishin would get his guy as well, however insufferable that might make him. If only so Yuusuke actually could tell Takeda that he’d been Keishin’s first kiss. 

Yuusuke had promised that that was all they’d done. Makoto wouldn’t have cared if they’d slept together, but Yuusuke said they hadn’t. “I don’t think he’s a virgin, but no, that wasn’t me. Was it you?”

“Definitely not.” Makoto made a face. “I would have been up for it, but you know Keishin, he’d get feelings all over the place.” 

“I’ll show you feelings all over the place,” Yuusuke said, and then he’d thrown him down on the bed and sucked him off. 

Makoto found himself grinning stupidly at his coffee maker. He sighed and poured himself a cup. He was getting feelings and stupidity all over his appliances. He hoped it would pass soon. Yuusuke should stay, definitely, but this dumbstruck shit had to go.

* * *

When Makoto checked his phone during a ten minute coffee break all of Yuusuke’s messages were signed off with pink sparkly hearts. Yuusuke was a little shit. Makoto had no idea why he liked him so much. 

Koharu eyed him. “Your face looks funny,” she said. “Are you smiling? Are you happy? Is this what you look like when you’re happy?” 

“Shut up and read about next weeks’ sales,” Makoto said, trying to suppress the stupid smile that threatened every time he thought of Yuusuke. 

Koharu did as ordered, but Makoto knew the gossip was going to hit the family grapevine as soon as he turned his back. He was prepared for it. At least, he thought so. Not to the point of dragging Yuusuke with him to the next family gathering and going, “mom, dad, extended family, this is Takinoue Yuusuke, my boyfriend. Please treat him kindly!” but maybe to the point of asking his parents over for dinner. He had to check with Yuusuke first though. He realized that he had no idea how out Yuusuke wanted to be about their relationship. Maybe telling their parents would be more than he would be interested in.

He messaged Yuusuke back, asking about the dinner idea before he could talk himself out of it. 

Yuusuke didn’t reply. 

Makoto kept surreptitiously checking his phone throughout the day, but there was nothing. Was Yuusuke napping, or had Makoto gone too fast? They’d only agreed to go on one date, after all. Sure, they’d known each other for ages, but this was different. Maybe Yuusuke wanted to wait, see how it went. Makoto could understand that. He was fine with it. 

He just wanted to know. 

Yuusuke showed up with pastry and soup before his shift started so at least he wasn’t upset about the invitation. Makoto breathed out a secret sigh of relief, then greeted him with a smile. “You made soup?”

“Yeah, you have a bucket of it in your fridge now.” Yuusuke gave him the thermos container and a spoon. Yuusuke didn’t cook a lot, but he was a stress cooker so whenever there was something on his mind, he cooked. Mostly he ended up making soup, because he found chopping up the ingredients and then stirring the broth calming. Makoto had watched him do it several times. It did usually seem to work. 

“Excellent, thanks.” 

Makoto had sent Yata in to assist Koharu and Rino. He’d just have to deal with getting hit on by middle-aged women for the twenty minutes Yuusuke was here. It was never that bad—mostly they just asked for assistance finding something they could perfectly well find on their own while giggling girlishly—Yata just managed to combine being ridiculously handsome and romantic with being painfully shy. Any attention at all by strangers made him uncomfortable. How he got all his girlfriends, Makoto had no idea. 

They were using a stack of pallets as a table and a bucket as an ash tray. Not very elegant but it worked. 

“So.” Yuusuke put his spoon down and glanced over at Makoto. “Dinner with your parents on Sunday?” 

“If you’re okay with it?” 

“Are _you_ okay with it? I mean, they’d know. Are you sure you want that? It could get really awkward, they might not approve, and I…” Yuusuke trailed off. “I’m happy if we never tell anybody, you know that right? I just want you. I don’t need anything else.” 

Makoto flushed. “Ugh, soppy,” he complained. 

“I know you don’t like it, but I do, so learn to deal with it,” Yuusuke said complacently. 

“Bah.” Makoto was grumbling more for the sake of it than anything else because he didn’t really mind it. As long as Yuusuke didn’t expect it from him, he could live with some mush. “But, yeah, my parents already suspect we’re dating. Might as well get it over with now that we actually are.” 

Yuusuke eyed him. Makoto didn’t really understand why Yuusuke was so wary around him now, not when what Makoto mostly felt was relief. He felt free in a strange way he’d never felt before. He had honestly never felt weighed down by expectation, never felt like he was being forced into a life he didn’t want, never felt that he’d been cheated out of something everybody else got by living the way he did, but having made the decision to try this thing with Yuusuke for real — it did make a difference. He felt lighter. He had ever since Yuusuke said yes to dating. 

He reached out across the pallet table and nudged Yuusuke’s fingers with his own. “We can wait, if you want, but I’ve made up my mind. I want this. Even if my parents should decide that they’re not okay with it, that’s not going to change anything. I’m sorry I made you wait ten years for this, but—“

“Not that long,” Yuusuke interrupted. His fingers were trembling though he was visibly trying to still them. “I haven’t been pining after you since we met, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Makoto felt his neck and ears go hot in self-conscious embarrassment. “No, I didn’t think that. Of course not. That’d be stupid.” 

“I didn’t know I was in love with you until you started dating Shiori,” Yuusuke said. He wasn’t looking at Makoto. His voice was quiet, level. “I realized you might actually marry her and I’d lose you completely, and that hurt. I didn’t expect it to because we’ve never been serious. I’ve always known you couldn’t… Wouldn’t… That I couldn’t give you the life you wanted, and that was fine. But that still hurt.” Yuusuke looked up, meeting Makoto’s eyes. “I thought what we did have would be enough, after you two broke up and we started up again. I realized that you cared about me too, even if you’d never tell me. I knew.” 

“I… I couldn’t marry Shiori. It wasn’t… I couldn’t.” Makoto had wanted to. He’d been prepared to ask her, been prepared to be a good husband and father, but two years ago Keishin had picked him up after work. They’d driven around a little aimlessly, Makoto having no idea what Keishin was doing, but willing to go with it. Keishin had stopped at the side of the road, stepped outside, smoked two cigarettes, and finally said, in a lost voice, “she’s my cousin, Makoto.” If Keishin had been angry, it would’ve been different, but it was more like Keishin was sad for both of them, and it woke Makoto up, made him realize he couldn’t go through with it.

It had taken him longer to understand that he was in love with Yuusuke. That love could be quiet and comfortable instead of messy and loud. He didn’t usually think of himself as overly influenced by pop culture but in this case he apparently had been. His love for Yuusuke hadn’t felt the way the world had told him it would, so for the longest time he hadn’t recognized it for what it was. 

Yuusuke nodded slightly. “I know.” 

Makoto gave him an uncertain smile, uncomfortably aware of the time and that Yata was going to come stumbling through the doors any minute now, desperate to escape the women fluttering around him. He needed to talk this through with Yuusuke, but he couldn’t do it now. He closed his hand around Yuusuke’s, squeezing a little. “Come to mine after work? We’ll talk.”

* * *

Somehow he’d expected Tadashi to be shy. The boy who was charming Ryuugazaki-san right now, chatting and laughing while he carried detergent in one hand and cat sand in the other, was definitely not shy. Makoto looked over his shoulder at Yata to see if he could explain this. 

“I don’t know, boss.” Yata scratched the back of his head. He was attempting to hide behind Makoto which was doomed to fail since Yata was a good ten centimeters taller and much more solidly built. “I warned him about the old ladies… and the middle aged ones… and the mothers… and the schoolgirls… but he didn’t seem to think it would be a problem.”

“Apparently it’s not. Huh.” 

Makoto waited until Tadashi came back to continue stacking detergent, then waved him over. “Hey, Tadashi—“

“I’m sorry, sensei!” Tadashi said immediately. “Yata told me to just stack the detergent, but she asked, and I didn’t think I should say no. But I’m sorry!”

Makoto shook his head. “No, don’t worry, you did the right thing. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to try the register as well.” He hadn’t thought of it before because Yata never did, but there was nothing that said that Tadashi couldn’t do it if he wanted to. 

Tadashi brightened. “Really?”

“It’s not that exciting,” Makoto cautioned. Makoto kind of enjoyed it, but he couldn’t exactly call it exciting. Once you got a handle on the touch screen’s prompts, it was fairly easy. More exciting than stacking detergent though. Most things were. “But sure. Koharu will show you the ropes if you want.”

Tadashi beamed and went back to stacking detergent with renewed vigor. Ah, youth. Makoto took a moment to appreciate this moment of youthful enthusiasm. He was sure Tadashi would quickly become as jaded and sarcastic as the rest of them. 

But until then he was a breath of fresh air. 

Makoto wondered idly if Tadashi would consider cleaning the staff room exciting as well. Their regular cleaning lady, Ishiguro, had two weeks off to visit her son in Fukuoka. Ishiguro was a lovely woman and never sick, so Makoto had no problems with her taking two weeks off. He did not, however, relish the thought of cleaning the staff room on his own. Before hiring Ishiguro, he, Yata and Rino had done all the cleaning. The smell of ammonium chloride still lingered in his memory. He had no need to experience it again. Maybe he could palm it off on Koharu…

He walked off, absently grabbing an empty carton and pulling the full one to the front. He threw it into a shopping cart already half-full of empty cartons as he passed by Rino. 

There was always something to do, but unfortunately today wasn’t busy enough to keep Makoto from worrying a little about what Yuusuke was thinking. He tried not to, but it was hard not to worry.

* * *

“Okay,” Yuusuke said as he toed his shoes off at the entry way. Makoto looked up from his volleyball magazine. Yuusuke padded over to him. He was still wearing his Takinoue Electronics uniform so he’d walked over straight from work. “I trust that you know what you’re doing. It’s just new to me so it’s going to take a little while to get used to it.”

Makoto blinked up at him, tearing his mind away from high school volleyball statistics with some effort. “Sorry?”

“Sunday dinner with your parents sound good. How heavy on the PDA do you want to get?”

Makoto felt his eyes widening. Displays of affection? In front of his _parents_? 

Yuusuke tumbled onto the couch, laughing. “Oh man, your face!”

Makoto punched him in the thigh and Yuusuke wriggled away, still laughing.


	3. My Name is Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of flashbacks and in the present it's Meet the Parents time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting to distract myself from my assignment woes again.

#### THEN: MAKOTO at 24

“Toilet paper,” Makoto said, and Shiori nodded. Ukai Shiori had long black hair to the middle of her back, usually in a sensible braid, light brown eyes and a slight overbite. She had an encyclopedic knowledge of cleaning products, which Makoto found interesting, and a close relationship with her two sisters, which Makoto found mildly terrifying.

“Detergent too.”

“Meat is usually not a good idea unless you have a freezer or intend to eat it right away.” 

Ichika looked fascinated. Imai Ichika had purple pastel hair down to her shoulders, dark brown eyes and a wide smile. She was currently trying to get people in the Miyagi prefecture’s art scene to hold an internet yami-ichi, which Yuusuke had already promised to do the tech support for. Makoto had promised to turn up. He felt like that was generous enough since he suspected it would largely be internet memes and cupcakes. Makoto wasn’t that interested in either of those things, though cupcakes could be all right depending on the flavour. 

“What about those Buy 2 Get 1 Extra things?” Yuusuke asked.

Makoto and Shiori shook their heads in unison. 

“Well, it can be, if it’s something you use a lot of,” Shiori added. “But mostly not.” 

“Don’t you use those things too?”

Yuusuke grinned. “No, I just color-match.”

Ichika rolled her eyes. “We do. What do you think those big baskets are for?”

Yuusuke shrugged and reached for another sushi roll. “Decoration?”

“Sometimes I really wonder why the boss keeps you on. Sheer nepotism?” Ichika teased. 

“I’m the only one who can use the online ordering system,” Yuusuke grinned back. “He can’t fire me. Chaos would ensue.” 

Makoto was a little surprised by how well this double date was going. Ichika and Shiori seemed to be getting along, even though they were very different. They’d already bonded over a love of California rolls and skirts with pockets. Makoto had no particular opinions on either. Yuusuke seemed happy about it too, judging by the way he leaned back and curled his arm comfortably over Ichika’s shoulders as she laughed at him. 

He glanced over at Shiori and she was smiling too. That was good. This was good. All of them getting along, talking and laughing. 

Yuusuke had said they had to stop sleeping together. Makoto had agreed, of course. It was probably the smart thing to do, and Shiori was sharp and kind and Makoto liked her, and, well, they had to grow up some day, didn’t they? Their friendship was still there. That had to be enough. 

Makoto laughed at Ichika’s description of Yuusuke’s attempt to get a customer to buy an entire line of the most garishly neon green household appliances she’d ever seen — “She actually bought the toaster and the smoothie maker, so kudos to you, I guess.”

Yuusuke bowed proudly at the table. “Thank you, thank you. I’m a born salesman!”

When they left the restaurant, Yuusuke and Ichika walked slightly ahead of them with their arms around the other’s waist. Makoto considered reaching out to hold Shiori’s hand, but Shiori was so self-contained, and Makoto didn’t particularly want to, so he decided not to. Instead they walked next to each other, exchanging absent smiles from time to time. 

A life of this wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

#### NOW

Rino seemed to take some kind of quiet satisfaction in pricing discount seasonal items. She had two bins and a wall to price by hand so that was just as well. She carefully glued the little red sticker to a star-shaped polka-dotted monstrosity that might or might not be a candle. She then chucked it carelessly into another bin. In her off time, Rino wore snapbacks and Vans scrawled all over with manga characters, but at work, her hair was in an easy ponytail and she wore shoes with good soles, suitable for standing on all day long. She still managed to draw stars on the shoes with a black sharpie, apparently feeling like she needed something to show off her personality. 

Makoto shook his head and left her to it. He had things to do. 

He had already put up the sales posters and changed the labels with the prices that either went up or down, but there was a sale of Pocari Sweat, a new brand of cat food his dad had high hopes for (mainly, Makoto suspected, because the mascot was an adorable pink and green cat), detergent, green tea Kit Kats, chicken fillets and kleenex starting on Thursday, and he needed to find somewhere to stack all of the various things. Sometimes he thought his parents did this to him just to see how he managed. 

Usually he did just fine, thank you. 

On his way over to the office, he was stopped by a clearly confused and overwhelmed tourist. She bobbed her head politely. “Sorry! Do you speak English?” she asked. Her accent wasn’t English though. French maybe?

“Yes,” said Makoto, whose vocabulary was incredibly volleyball focused, but who thought he could probably manage. And anyway he had no intention of giving up a sale. 

“Oh good!” What followed was too rapid for Makoto to understand. Once she stopped talking they ended up staring at each other in mutual incomprehension. 

“Um,” Makoto said after a moment. “Slower?”

She blinked at him. “Jam? Cheese?” she tried, clearly flustered. She mimicked spreading something on her palm. “Chocolate?”

“Oh! Follow!” Makoto said. He gestured for her to follow him over to the marmalade and chocolate spreads section. It was one shelf above the biscuits section. He restocked it about once a year because he didn’t sell an awful lot of it. Mainly to random tourists who somehow decided that a stop in their little town was a good idea. 

The tourist beamed at him and bobbed her head again. “Thank you!”

Makoto left her there, feeling oddly accomplished. Who said volleyball wasn’t useful in daily life? Yuusuke died laughing when he told him about it later. Makoto smacked him over the back of the head and sulked. It wasn’t as though Yuusuke’s English was much better. 

“Never said it was,” Yuusuke said, still chuckling. “Did she end up buying something in the end?”

“Yes, she did, thank you very much.” Makoto stuck his tongue out at him, feeling very mature and grown up. 

Yuusuke laughed harder. 

Makoto folded his arms over his chest and kicked Yuusuke’s thigh lightly with his heels before scooting down and resting his feet in Yuusuke’s lap. “Are you staying the night?” he asked, once Yuusuke’s laughter died down. 

“Nah,” Yuusuke said. He’d started absently massaging Makoto’s foot, pressing his thumb down and then smoothing over it with his hand. “Can’t. I’m starting early tomorrow because of the Inter-highs so I am gonna play very soothing games on my tablet until I fall asleep.” 

“Oh okay.” Makoto thought he managed to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but Yuusuke looked over at him, frowning. 

“We’re still going, aren’t we?”

“Yes, of course!” 

Yuusuke’s frown faded and he smiled. “Good. I’m looking forward to it. But what was that look for?”

“Nothing,” Makoto said, squirming a little. 

Yuusuke waited.

“It’s silly.” Makoto gave in. 

“Okay?”

“I like it when you stay the night. It’s… I don’t know. I like knowing you’re here.” 

Yuusuke stilled for a moment, then he ducked his head, clearly trying to hide the pleased smile that emerged. Yuusuke wasn’t shy by anybody’s definition of the word, but sometimes he displayed mannerisms that gave off the same impression, almost like Makoto _made_ him shy. Every time it was like a hand squeezing Makoto’s heart. 

“I said it was silly,” he said.

“No, it’s not,” Yuusuke said. He looked up but he didn’t quite meet Makoto’s eyes. “I—I like it too.” 

Giddy bubbles of happiness rose in Makoro and that was definitely silly. He knew Yuusuke liked him, they’d known each other forever, they’d talked about almost everything — but they’d always shied away from getting too intimate before. Yuusuke had tried sometimes, or forgotten himself, Makoto wasn’t sure which was more accurate, but Makoto had usually reacted by laughing it off, or by turning it sexual. 

Sex between them had always been easier than emotions. Makoto had never really been afraid of admitting sexual attraction to Yuusuke. He’d never considered that complicated. 

Feelings, however. Feelings were complicated. Feelings were easier to suppress than admit to.

* * *

#### NOW: INTER-HIGH

“Did Datekou look this terrifying when we were in school?” Yuusuke asked, his eyes a little wide. 

Makoto was leaning over the railing by then, too tense to do anything else. He got into volleyball matches, he couldn’t help it. “Not this terrifying, I’m pretty sure. How tall _is_ that white haired kid?” 

“Taller than you,” Yuusuke noted.

“Fuck off.” 

Yuusuke grinned at him, but Makoto was too into the match to do anything other than give him a quick smile back. Makoto had rarely enjoyed himself as much on a date. They didn’t really do much they wouldn’t have done if it hadn’t been a date, but knowing that it was one made a difference. Makoto kept meeting Yuusuke’s gaze and smiling helplessly at him.

They’d nearly been late for the match. Makoto didn’t remember it being this packed when he’d been in school, otherwise he would’ve tried to arrive earlier, but they’d managed to get in in time for Karasuno’s match against Datekou. At least Karasuno had gone on to the next match. Makoto didn’t want to consider Keishin’s disappointed face if they’d missed Karasuno playing altogether. 

Yuusuke was much calmer than Makoto, who was going out of his skin in nervousness. He didn’t mind exciting matches, but did it have to be _this_ exciting? 

“Only six more points to go. Get them while you can, shrimpy,” Yuusuke said intensely. Yuusuke liked that fast little decoy. Makoto saw his point — that freak quick was more startling than any other version of it he’d seen. Maybe because Hinata was so short. 

Makoto leaned forward. “This is our chance to gain on them.” 

Both Yuusuke and Makoto were baffled by the lack of signals though. Keishin always used them. It was odd that he didn’t demand it from Kageyama. They had to have some way of calling the plays, but Makoto couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe he’d ask Keishin later. 

“This was way too close for comfort,” Makoto said. 

“At least we’re at match point now,” Yuusuke pointed out, though he looked as anxious as Makoto felt. 

When Karasuno actually won and continued on to the next day, both Makoto and Yuusuke were yelling. 

“This was a pretty great date,” Yuusuke said, once they’d tracked down his car again. 

Makoto grinned. “Well, yeah, they won! Can you believe it?” 

“It’s pretty amazing. The crows are flying again,” Yuusuke grinned back. He leaned over and gave Makoto a quick kiss. “Want to come home to mine?”

Makoto nodded. He wondered if he could still blame his flush on the excitement of the game.

* * *

Makoto took a day off work to see the Karasuno v. Aoba Johsai match. He was somehow completely unsurprised when Yuusuke did the same. They hadn’t talked about that last night. Makoto hadn’t wanted to push, and he hadn’t been sure he could take a day off either. 

“Had to take a paid day off. Can’t take any other days off in the near future.”

“Yeah, same.”

“By the way did your student get better at serving?” Yuusuke glanced over at him. 

“What do you mean, student? It’s only been a little over a week,” Makoto said, amused. Sure, he had agreed to teach Tadashi his jump float serve, but ‘student’ was an exaggeration. Employee was even more accurate right now. It was true that he liked Tadashi, but… He didn’t feel like anybody’s teacher or coach. He wasn’t Keishin. 

Yuusuke gave him a doubting look, but let it go. 

“It’s starting!”

It was a little like they were on another date, even though they hadn’t agreed on it being one. Makoto wondered if he could ask about it later. He wondered if everything they did together from now on would feel like a date. This was so new, he didn’t know. 

“If they win, they’ll be in the top eight!” Makoto grinned. It had been a while since Karasuno had been anywhere near that. 

It was a little crushing when they lost, but the team had given their all. 

“Next time!” Makoto said.

“Definitely!” Yuusuke nodded eagerly. “Spring High, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Makoto hadn’t exactly kept up with the high school volleyball tournament schedule after leaving high school, even if he had kept up with volleyball. 

Yuusuke tilted back on his heels and gave Makoto an expectant look. “Well?”

“What?”

“D’you wanna?”

“Sure!” Makoto was already busy looking up Keishin’s email for scheduling information. He had to get somebody to cover his shifts — Koharu maybe?

Yuusuke grinned.

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 23

Makoto’s kiss was soft and coaxing, aiming to turn Yuusuke’s pout into a smile. He understood Yuusuke’s frustration — Makoto hated losing as well — but it had been a good match. Friendly and by the rules. Yuusuke’s spikes had kept getting blocked though, while Makoto’s jump floats had given them four points in a row. Makoto was pleased about that. Sometimes Makoto was a better loser than he was a winner. 

Yuusuke pulled out of the kiss, but pressed their foreheads together. He sighed, a great big huff of a sigh. “All right.” 

“You did good.”

“Ugh. I should’ve at least gotten some of them through, but—“

Makoto clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shh. It was fun.” 

“It was fun,” Yuusuke repeated, voice muffled.

“We’ll beat them next time.”

Yuusuke made a face, nose wrinkling. When Makoto pulled his hand away he was pouting. “I wanted to win this time.”

It was childish, but it wasn’t like Makoto could say anything about that. Two matches ago, he’d been exactly the same when none of his jump floats had worked the way they should. It was frustrating to know that you were better than this but being unable to really show it. 

Yuusuke’s flat was chaotic. Yuusuke claimed it was an organized chaos, but if so it was organized based on a system Makoto had never heard of. Makoto still managed to make his way to Yuusuke’s bed, dragging Yuusuke along with him. Yuusuke shuffled along behind him, still pouting. 

Makoto sat down, spreading his legs and pulling Yuusuke closer by the front of his pants until he shuffled between them. He started unbuttoning the pants while Yuusuke continued looking displeased with the world.

“Loser sex is just not as fun as winner sex, is it?”

“You’re a loser,” Yuusuke said.

Makoto snorted. “We’re both losers.”

Yuusuke sighed, kicked off his pants and face-planted onto the bed next to Makoto. “I want to win always. Everything. Forever.”

Makoto laughed. He fell onto his back, twisting his head to watch his fingers walk down Yuusuke’s back. Yuusuke twitched a little but didn’t move otherwise. Makoto shoved his hand under Yuusuke’s t-shirt, pulling it up. Yuusuke’s skin was a little damp still from the shower post-match. “But in lieu of that, how does loser sex sound?”

“Not that bad,” Yuusuke admitted. He turned his head towards Makoto. “Get your pants off and fuck me.”

* * *

#### NOW

Makoto woke up when Yuusuke started laughing in his ear. “Hmm?” he said sleepily. Then he blinked. “Shit, did I just fall asleep on you?”

“While I was fingering you, even,” Yuusuke confirmed. He was on his side, now, one hand stroking down Makoto’s back. His eyes were sparkling. “I’m taking it very personally, I hope you know that.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re terrible in bed,” Makoto said. He pulled his hand out from under his pillow and moved it over to Yuusuke’s face, running his fingers lightly over his cheek before curling around the back of his head and nudging Yuusuke closer. Yuusuke moved willingly, meeting Makoto’s lips in a sleepy kiss. 

“You better be thinking of ways of making this up to me,” Yuusuke murmured, smiling as he pressed another kiss to the corner of Makoto’s mouth. 

Makoto closed his eyes again. “Eh. I told you you could do whatever as long as I didn’t have to do anything.” 

“Yeah,” Yuusuke agreed. “But I sort of like it when you’re awake when I do it.” He still sounded amused more than anything. “Ten years ago this would never have happened.”

“Ten years ago I didn’t spend the entire day hauling dog food and cat sand around.” Makoto shifted until he was more comfortable, sighing happily when Yuusuke moved to accommodate him. He was warm and happy and way too tired for sex. “And don’t flatter yourself too much— a particularly good serve got me going back then.”

“Oh I know. Got me going too.” 

Makoto grinned. “I know.”

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 16

It was stupid. Makoto didn’t need Keishin’s shocked face to know that. But they’d won. Makoto had come in as a pinch hitter and he’d done it — he’d pulled them up. He’d never felt anything like that before: a mix of triumph and satisfaction. The feeling was fantastic. He never wanted to let it go. 

Of course his streak hadn’t continued forever, but it had lasted long enough. Karasuno had made a comeback in the end and the match had been theirs. 

He’d thought they’d been the last ones left. He’d been sure when he’d pushed Yuusuke up against the wall and gotten on his knees. He hadn’t — they hadn’t — done this a lot yet, but he liked doing it, and Yuusuke liked him doing it, and he’d been so turned on. He’d been dying to get off, and Yuusuke had too. The feverish shine in his eyes and the way he tangled his fingers clumsily into Makoto’s hair told him that with all possible clarity. 

Five minutes later and Keishin would have walked in on nothing. 

“Fuck,” Makoto said, shooting to his feet. Yuusuke reached out to steady him while pulling his own shorts up. Makoto shook him off. It was too difficult to focus with Yuusuke’s hand touching him. “Keishin, I…”

“You…” Keishin trailed off. He took a step inside the room and closed the door gently. He ended up with his shoulders up against the door. He was staying. Not running off to tell everybody what he’d seen, but staying. Maybe if Makoto could explain… If he could make Keishin understand… 

“It’s not something we do a lot,” Makoto said. “It’s just—“

“Makoto,” Yuusuke said, cutting him off. Makoto looked over at him, a little wild-eyed. Yuusuke could probably read how scared he was better than Keishin could. Yuusuke’s face softened. “It’s okay. Keishin can keep a secret.”

“I-I can!” Keishin agreed, surprising both of them. They looked towards him. “I won’t say anything.” He blushed. “But, maybe… Not in the club room, guys?”

“No, no, we won’t,” Makoto promised. Right then he would have promised anything as long as Keishin promised to keep what he’d seen to himself. It wasn’t that he distrusted Keishin. He just knew how people would talk about them if it came out. It would only take a couple of days before everybody knew, including their parents. His parents expected a lot from him and he didn’t want to let them down. He didn’t want to explain why their son had suddenly become the town scandal. The person people would whisper about and laugh at. And that didn’t even get into the hell school would be. What he had with Yuusuke wasn’t serious enough to make Makoto want to weather that.

“Thanks, Keishin,” Yuusuke said. He tried to touch Makoto again, tentatively linking their hands together. This time Makoto let him. Makoto liked Yuusuke’s hands, always had. 

Keishin shook his head. “It’s okay. I mean, you… the two of you. It’s okay.” He didn’t seem to have the words for this anymore than Makoto did. 

That was the only time they ever did anything at school. Yuusuke tried to kiss him once, when they were alone in the equipment room, but Makoto turned his head away before he could and laughed it off. Yuusuke’s hesitant bewildered smile made something unpleasant turn in his chest. But Yuusuke had to understand why, right? Last time they’d been lucky it had only been Keishin. He never tried it again, so Makoto thought he did understand.

* * *

#### NOW

“What the hell are you wearing?” Makoto backed away from the door, giving Yuusuke a disbelieving once-over as he did. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Yuusuke this cleaned up. 

Yuusuke tugged at his polo shirt self-consciously. “What? I wanted to look nice for your parents.” 

“Your idea of nice is how I dress every day?” 

He gave Makoto an uncertain look. “Yes?”

Makoto had to kiss him. 

The uncertainty gave way to bafflement. “What was that for?”

“You’re cute and adorable,” Makoto said. “And I don’t use those words lightly.” 

“You’re weird,” Yuusuke said flatly. “Stop being weird and tell me if you think this is okay. I could still run home and change…”

Makoto shook his head. “No, you look good, this is fine. Anyway, you can’t, because you have to stare at dinner with me and make sure I don’t burn the fish. Again.” Makoto was a decent enough cook, but his ability to accidentally char fish was unmatched.

“Why did you decide on fish? You know you suck at it. Why not chicken? Your chicken is always nice.”

“Yeah, but mom likes fish more.” 

“Ah.”

Yuusuke joined him in staring worriedly at the fish. His hand stroking down Makoto’s back comfortingly before resting at the small of his back. “You did tell them, right?”

“Yes. I’m not going to suddenly spring you on them. I don’t think that would end very well.”

“So what did they say? I mean, I’m assuming they weren’t… You would have told me if they were considering disowning you or something, right?” Yuusuke looked concerned as he worried his lower lip with his teeth.

“Yeah, no, they’re not… They were a little surprised without really being surprised? I guess?” Makoto wasn’t sure how to recap a conversation he’d stumbled his way through as quickly as he could while his pulse was racing. His heartbeat had been so loud he’d barely heard his mom’s replies. “It’ll probably be awkward, but… They’ll be here. So.” 

Yuusuke gave him a searching look, absently pulling the frying pan off the stove as he did. “You’re happy?” It was more a statement than a question.

Makoto blinked, surprised. Was he? “I… Yes, I suppose I am.”

“I’m glad.” Yuusuke smiled. 

Awkward was an understatement. 

His mother had a permanent smile glued to her face and his father kept pausing at weird places. They were clearly trying though, so Makoto was filled with affection towards his parents who very obviously didn’t understand why he wanted to date Yuusuke instead of some lovely young woman, but who supported him anyway. 

“Well, dear, after Shiori-chan — who’s expecting her first child now, did you know? Her parents are very excited, and her boyfriend is a very nice boy, I’m sure. Grandson of the woman who used to make those lovely candles, you remember?” 

“Yeah, I bought them for your birthday once.”

“Right, exactly. Anyway, after Shiori-chan, we realized that…” Michiko hesitated, clearly searching for the words. “You and Takinoue-kun have always been very close, haven’t you?” 

“Like Shintaro and Neji,” Yoshiteru supplied. 

Makoto blinked at his parents. “Keishin’s mother’s uncle?” 

“How do you remember these things?” Yuusuke muttered under his breath. 

“Don’t know - it’s interesting?”

Yuusuke gave him a disbelieving look. They were kneeling next to each other with Makoto’s parents facing them on the other side of the table, mainly because Makoto’s bravery only went so far and without Yuusuke next to him he wasn’t brave at all. “No, it isn’t. It’s weird.” 

“You remember what kind of gadgets everybody owns,” Makoto said defensively. “That’s way weirder.” He flushed when he realized that his mother was grinning at them. “Sorry, mom. Go on.”

“No, I was just going to say that it might take us a little while to get used to it, but we will,” Michiko promised. The atmosphere was still a little off, awkward, but all of them were relaxing. Yoshiteru was focusing on his food, shoulders lowering, moving out of the polite position he’d adopted, much different to his usual habits around family.

Makoto flushed again, happy and embarrassed at the same time. He glanced over at Yuusuke who smiled back at him. Yuusuke hadn’t told his parents yet. Yuusuke had, as far as Makoto could tell, no intention of ever telling his parents. He’d never been as close to them as Makoto was to his own. Not because they weren’t fond of each other, Makoto was fairly certain they were, but they were just more inclined to be fond at a distance. Yuusuke talked to his parents maybe once a month, while Makoto talked to his a couple of times a week — both because the store meant he had to and because he just wanted to. Maybe Yuusuke had told his siblings though. Makoto hadn’t thought to ask. He wouldn’t mind if they knew. 

“So about children—“ Yoshiteru said. 

Makoto could feel Yuusuke’s jolt of surprise next to him. He sympathized. 

“—When were you thinking of adopting?”

Yuusuke gave him a panicked look. 

“We… haven’t discussed it yet,” Makoto said. He did want kids, but he wasn’t sure that would be an option for him now. Partly because of the legal loop holes he’d have to navigate and partly because he was pretty sure Yuusuke didn’t want kids. Would it cost money? It probably would. 

“You’re not getting any younger, you know,” Yoshiteru said reproachfully, probably having visions of small children playing with tiny toy cash registers and plastic fruit in baskets. 

“I’m still not twenty-eight though!” Makoto protested, already defaulting to his last objection. 

Michiko brightened. “So in two years?” 

Makoto threw out his arms, nearly smacking Yuusuke in the face. “Mom! Dad! Come on!”

His parents looked utterly unrepentant. 

“We’re only saying,” Yoshiteru said. “Time passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re old and grey. You should at least think about it.”

Yuusuke looked like he’d rather be somewhere else, anywhere else. Makoto didn’t blame him. He slipped his hand over to give Yuusuke’s knee a quick stroke. 

“Life is fleeting,” Yoshiteru said seriously. 

Makoto eyed him. He wasn’t sure how much of this was his parents being serious and how much was them trying to freak him out. “That’s… cheerful. Can we change the subject now? To anything else? Anything at all? I’ll talk quarterly earnings and shopping cart averages if you want.”

Michiko took pity on them. “How’s Koharu doing?”

“Great! She’s doing wonderfully!” Makoto gushed, throwing himself into the subject before Yuusuke could change his mind about everything and run away, possibly for good. Makoto wouldn’t even blame him if he did. Somehow, though, it was less awkward now. Well, possibly not for Yuusuke. But this was like all his ‘meet the girlfriend’ dinners from before, just slightly adapted. 

They eventually left, giving both Makoto and Yuusuke a hug before they left. They weren’t a very hug-y family usually so it was definitely his parents giving them a sign of approval. He suspected that one day soon, one of his parents would visit him and they’d have a Talk with a capital T, but at least so far they’d reacted much better than Makoto had dared to hope for. He was still a part of the family, they seemed to have accepted Yuusuke as his boyfriend, and there had been a distinct lack of yelling. If all he had to put up with was requests for grandchildren, he’d be overjoyed. 

Makoto tidied up in silence, tossing quick little glances Yuusuke’s way as he did. Yuusuke was helping him clean, a tiny frown on his brow, not talking either. 

“What?” Yuusuke asked finally. He’d paused by the kitchen counter that doubled as a bar and was tapping his fingers restlessly on the wooden surface. “I can tell you’re dying to say something, so just say it.” He sounded harsh, almost angry. 

Makoto halted, straightening from where he’d been putting dishes into the dishwasher. He turned around, surprised by Yuusuke’s mood. “I thought—I thought that went well? Did you… Was it too weird? We don’t have to do it again if you really don’t want to.” It might be difficult, but he could make it work if he had to. He’d thought Yuusuke liked his parents though. 

Yuusuke’s lips were a tight line. “I don’t want kids, Makoto,” he said abruptly. “I’m never going to want kids. Barring some weird post-apocalyptic scenario where we’re the only adults alive—“

“I know!” Makoto walked over to him, reached out to touch his shoulder gently. “Look, I know that. It’s fine.”

“It’s not though.”

Makoto laughed nervously. “My parents are just—“

Yuusuke shook his head impatiently. “Not your parents, it’s _you_. You’ve always wanted kids. You probably have names picked out for them and everything. Look. I—I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

Makoto tightened his grip on Yuusuke’s shoulder reflexively. “No,” he said, denying it. “Yuusuke, don’t do this. Not now. Please, don’t.”

Yuusuke’s eyes were fond and pained. “You’ve always wanted everything I could never give you, Makoto. This is —“

“I’ve always wanted _you_!” Makoto burst out. It was true. How he’d allowed himself to want Yuusuke had slowly changed, but having Yuusuke in his life had always been important. “If you don’t want me like this, that’s—I’ll deal with it. But don’t leave me over things I thought I wanted when I was sixteen and then was too stupid to let go of. Please.” 

“Of course I want this, but I don’t want you to hate me in a couple of years. I couldn’t stand it if you did.” 

“I’m in love with you, you moron. I could never hate you.” 

Yuusuke stared at him. “You’re…”

This entire day had been exhausting. This really wasn’t helping. 

“Don’t tell me this is a surprise to you,” Makoto said flatly. He moved his other hand up to Yuusuke’s other shoulder. He shook him a little. “We just had dinner with my parents, Yuusuke. I introduced you as my boyfriend. Of course I’m in love with you.”

“You never said…” Yuusuke said feebly. At least the awful pained look was gone. 

“You’ve never said it either,” Makoto pointed out. “I assumed it was understood.”

Yuusuke gave him a long searching look, then slowly he started to relax. He smiled a little. “Makoto?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Makoto turned instantly red, relief and joy and embarrassment making his skin prickle from his chest to the tips of his ears. “I love you too.” The words felt awkward in his mouth and the delivery was a little stilted, but he meant it. “Does— This means you’re not breaking up with me, right?”

Yuusuke nodded. “I’m not.” He hesitated, taking Makoto’s hands down from his shoulders and holding them. “We should probably talk though.”

“Does it have to be now?” Makoto was tired. 

Yuusuke squeezed his hands. “No, but soon, probably.”

“Soon I can do. Right now, though… Bed?”

“Bed is good,” Yuusuke agreed.


	4. On Solid Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks, Tadashi and relationship negotiations.

#### THEN: Makoto at 16

It was a burning hot morning. Makoto was hung over and bitchy. He still somehow managed to drag himself out of bed, groaning pathetically the entire time. He wasn’t sure if the others would even show up, but if they didn’t, at least he got to comfort himself in the warm glow of self righteousness. He dug a frozen lolly out of the freezer, glared at his dad who seemed to be doing his very best to slam all his pots together in the noisiest way possible, and slunk outside. 

He hid under the shadow of the trees, waiting. He was methodically biting pieces off the lolly when he spotted Yuusuke walking up the hill. Even from a distance he looked as wrecked as Makoto felt. He raised his free hand and waved lazily once, before deciding that that was all the effort he was willing to spend.

Yesterday he’d… They had… Yuusuke and him… He felt the phantom pressure of Yuusuke’s mouth on his. Just thinking about it made his heartbeat speed up. He hadn’t known kissing could feel like that. Maybe Yuusuke had just been happy and horny, maybe he regretted it now, but Makoto didn’t. He refused to. 

Yuusuke grunted a greeting and then dropped down like a sack of potatoes coming to rest next to him, an arm slung over his eyes, misery written all over his body. “No Keishin?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“Maybe he’s dead,” Yuusuke suggested. “ _I_ feel dead.” 

Makoto squinted at him. “You do have something zombie-ish about you.”

Yuusuke moved his arm slightly so he could squint back over at him. “How are you so chatty? How are you not dead?” 

“Oh I am,” Makoto said. His head was still killing him, he was sweaty and gross, and the last thing he wanted to do was run up and down the hillside. But Yuusuke was next to him, close enough that Makoto could feel the warmth of his skin, and maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to kiss Makoto some more in the near future. So he gave Yuusuke a grin and finished off his lolly. “But you look so much shittier than me it makes me feel good in comparison.”

Yuusuke gave him a half-hearted punch in the back that had no power behind it. “I hate you so much.”

“Great, then you should feel inspired to work hard and beat me to the finish line!” Makoto said. He didn’t move though. He didn’t really feel like running either. 

“No, I’m just going to melt into the ground right here.” Yuusuke demonstrated what he meant by flopping down on his back, arms spread.

Makoto shifted around until he could see Yuusuke’s face again. He had his eyes closed, nose wrinkled a little against the sun. The heat of the sun had his t-shirt sticking to him in sweaty patches. It should be unattractive, but it wasn’t. “You know, what we did yesterday…” Makoto started, uncertain but unafraid. He couldn’t imagine ever being afraid of Yuusuke. 

Yuusuke stilled. He didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Was that just… I mean, we were pretty drunk.”

“Yes.” Yuusuke seemed determined to give away nothing. 

Makoto persevered. “But, um. If you wanted to do it again, I’d be cool with that.” 

Yuusuke blinked at that, eyes finally opening and then he was meeting Makoto’s gaze. There was a wary pleasure in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Makoto nodded and then winced. Nodding was still not a good idea. His brain felt like it pressing against his skull. “We’re friends, right? Who else could we even do this with?” 

“True enough.” Yuusuke closed his eyes again. “Yeah, sure. Why not? It was fun. I’m always up for a good time. We don’t have to make it into some big deal, right?”

“Right,” Makoto agreed. He tilted his head back, enjoying the light breeze. His chest was bubbling with happiness. He moved his arm to the side so his hand could bump comfortably against Yuusuke’s. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Yuusuke smiling.

* * *

#### NOW

Tadashi might not be as gifted as his fellow first years were, but he was certainly tenacious. It was late at night and Tadashi was still there, practicing. 

Makoto hadn’t been a starting member either, so he understood. He did. He also really wanted to go home. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tadashi asked hesitantly before Makoto could tell him to stop for the night. He held the volleyball tightly to his chest. 

“Sure. What?”

“You have to promise not to tell anybody.”

“…Okay?”

Tadashi bit his lip. “I have… I have this friend…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He… Um. Do you think it’s possible to… to like both girls and boys? Like, like _that_?” Tadashi was blushing furiously now, eyes wide and anxious. 

Makoto gave him a sharp look, softening it when Tadashi shrank beneath it and looked like he regretted ever opening his mouth. “Why are you asking me?” 

“I—I—I thought you’re a grown up? So you’d know? I can’t ask mom, or Take-chan, or, or coach, and I tried searching online, but I think maybe I did it wrong because, um…” Tadashi trailed off. It wasn’t possible for him to blush any harder, but he looked like he wanted to. 

_I’ll bet._ Makoto eyed him. “Yes.”

Tadashi blinked at him. 

“Yes, it’s possible,” Makoto elaborated. 

“Oh.” 

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Makoto could think of very few topics he’d be less eager to talk about, but this mentor thing was weird. He liked Tadashi now. He wanted Tadashi to succeed and apparently that meant not only at volleyball but at life in general. 

“Is that okay?” 

Makoto shrugged. He sat down on the sidesteps and gestured for Tadashi to do the same. “It’s okay. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but if you want to talk, I’ll listen.” 

“So my friend,” Tadashi said, stubbornly clinging to that excuse. “He’s always liked girls, you know? But no girls have ever really liked him back. And he’s also got a friend. He — the friend— is really popular with girls, but doesn’t care at all. He thinks it’s all a bother.”

“Maybe he’s gay?” Makoto suggested. 

“I don’t know,” Tadashi said. “Tsuk—I mean, he’s… He’s great, but he doesn’t really like a lot of people.” There was an odd pride to his voice. 

“Tsuk? Tsukishima? Tall, blond, glasses? The lazy middle blocker?”

Tadashi sighed, giving up on his attempt at subterfuge. He folded his arms over his knees. “Yeah.”

“You like him?” Makoto asked, voice as gentle as he could make it. This wasn’t something he’d ever have asked Tadashi before, too conscious of the reasons why he himself would never have wanted to talk about it, but he sensed that Tadashi did need to talk. 

“I don’t know. I mean, he’s my best friend, and he’s really cool and awesome, and I’m just… I’m just me. I’m nothing special,” Tadashi said self-deprecatingly. His lips pulled up in a crooked grin. “Usually we’d walk home together from school, but lately I’ve been coming here, and I don’t think he even cares. I guess there’s no reason he should.” 

Oh god, teenagers. Makoto was sure he hadn’t signed up for this. His own teenage drama had been bad enough, now he had to deal with somebody else’s as well? 

Maybe Yuusuke had the right idea about kids… 

“If you keep practicing the way you’ve been doing lately, you’re going to _make_ him care,” Makoto promised him. 

“You think so?” 

Makoto nodded. “Absolutely.”

Tadashi brightened a little. 

“There’s a girl you like too?” Makoto was the worst person to have this talk; Yuusuke would be a better choice, but Tadashi knew Makoto, he didn’t know Yuusuke. 

Tadashi nodded, blushing. “She’s really cute. But I don’t think she’s noticed me either. It would be nice if she did, I guess, but I don’t know if… I don’t know. Having a girlfriend would be nice, I think. But I’ve liked Tsukki for a really long time, so I don't know.”

“Well, you’re fifteen,” Makoto said, and grinned at the look Tadashi gave him. “I’m sorry, but not knowing anything when you’re fifteen is pretty common.”

Tadashi sighed. 

Makoto patted him on the back. “It’s not going to make you feel better, but to tell the truth, in my experience twenty-six year olds are pretty clueless too.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t help.” Tadashi was smiling a little though. “Thanks. For… For this.” 

“Not a problem,” Makoto assured him. He stretched. “Maybe time to call it a night though. What do you say?”

Tadashi nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I guess it is pretty late…”

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 25

“I just got ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ed by Segawa Umetarou by _text message_.” Makoto stared incredulously down at his phone.

Yuusuke choked on his soda. “What?”

“I know, right?! The nerve of that man!”

“You’re dating Segawa?”

Makoto stared at him. “Of course I’m not dating Umetarou. Are you crazy? The man is the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life! I wouldn’t date him if he begged me!” Makoto fumed. He shook his phone demonstrably. “He couldn’t even call me? What the fuck?”

Yuusuke had a very peculiar look on his face. “I think I’m missing something.”

“Umetarou is an asshole.”

“No, that part I knew.”

“We’ve been meeting up, I guess, since last time we played the Vipers?” 

Yuusuke blinked. “Meeting up? When?”

“Yeah, just now and then, you know. Nothing serious, just… Well.” He wasn’t going to spell it out for Yuusuke, not in public, but Yuusuke probably got the gist of it anyway. “Oh. Um. Maybe I didn’t tell you…” Makoto faltered at the expression on Yuusuke’s face.

If there was a thing called argument-sex, that was what he had with Umetarou. The first time had really been the extension of an argument about a point call (Makoto said it was in, Umetarou insisted it wasn’t). The following seven times they’d managed to have sex were also while arguing. It was hot and incredibly frustrating, and there was no way Makoto would ever _date_ Umetarou. 

Makoto actually did like him, but… He couldn’t even imagine ever introducing Umetarou to his parents as his boyfriend. Admittedly he couldn’t imagine introducing anybody to his parents as his boyfriend, but even aside from that, Umetarou with his faux-hawk, the multiple piercings, and his habit of throwing a curse word into every other sentence? Umetarou who hadn’t held down a job for more than three months in his life? No. His parents would probably ship him off to grandmother Arai for his own good. He wouldn’t even blame them.

The sex was amazing though. 

Yuusuke dipped his french fry in mayonnaise repeatedly. “No. You didn’t.”

“Well, it wasn’t really important,” Makoto said. “And apparently it’s not happening again, so it’s pointless to talk about it now. Even though—“ he scowled down at his phone. “—‘I’m a great guy with a nice ass’. Bastard.” 

That Umetarou didn’t want to keep hooking up, Makoto was more or less fine with, but that Umetarou chose to tell him this by sending him a break-up text annoyed him.

“I didn’t think you dated guys.” Yuusuke was still on the same french fry. 

“I _don’t_ ,” Makoto said sharply. 

“Right. And you’re pissed now because…?”

“It’s just rude!” Makoto bit into his hamburger vengefully. The next match they had against the Vipers, Makoto was going to personally crush them all into itty bitty bits. “Anyway, I’d never date somebody I wouldn’t be happy introducing to my parents. Could you imagine Umetarou ever meeting my parents? No, because that’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t know, I think that might be hilarious… I see great comedic potential in this. Maybe you should text him back, beg him to take you back, buy him flowers, that kind of thing.” Yuusuke finally ate the fry, popping it into his mouth with a grin.

Makoto gave him a look of betrayal. “You’re the worst friend in the world.”

Yuusuke grinned at him.

* * *

#### NOW

“I swear to fuck, if you don’t stop moving, I will shove you out of this bed,” Makoto hissed. Yuusuke had been squirming and shifting position next to him for the last half hour and Makoto was getting increasingly more annoyed by every small twitch. He liked Western style beds but the downside was getting painfully obvious with every dip of the mattress as Yuusuke moved his ridiculously long body restlessly. 

Yuusuke stilled. “Sorry.” 

Makoto smushed his face into his pillow and made another attempt to fall asleep. Having Yuusuke in the bed next to him _was_ nice, really, but getting some sleep before he had to haul boxes around all day was also nice. 

He was just about to drop to sleep when Yuusuke started moving again.

“Yuusuke! Come on, seriously?” Makoto groaned. He rolled over on his back and glowered up at the ceiling. “Just get out already. I have to get up in six hours.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yuusuke sighed. He leaned over to press a dry kiss against Makoto’s cheek. “I’m not used to going to bed this early.” 

“Keep the noise down if you watch tv,” Makoto said. 

He was asleep five minutes later. 

Makoto woke up again at 3:27, a good two and a half hours before his alarm was due to go off. He frowned sleepily. “Sorry,” Yuusuke whispered as he settled down. “It’s just me, go back to sleep.” Makoto shifted until he was pinning Yuusuke down and rubbed his cheek against Yuusuke’s chest and shoulder until he found the perfect sleeping position. “Mmm. Love you,” he mumbled and then fell asleep again.

He wasn’t sure why Yuusuke kept beaming at him the next day, but it was nice so he didn’t question it.

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 23

Makoto met Shiori during Keishin’s birthday celebration. Keishin was well on his way to happily drunk, talking about how happy he was that everybody was there. Shiori was laughing at him, which instantly endeared her to Makoto. Keishin was ridiculous and more people needed to acknowledge this fact.

“Hey,” he said, dropping down on the floor next to them. He’d located Yuusuke standing by the bar, talking a mile a minute with Tatsuya and Uchizawa. 

He didn’t intend to ask Shiori out, though subconsciously he was aware that he’d been single for a while now. His parents were starting to ask if he had anybody in mind, though he didn’t feel like he was running out of time or anything. His dad was twenty-eight when he was born, which he brought up whenever he found them too annoying. He knew they were just worried that he was lonely, but he wasn’t, really. He couldn’t very well explain that Yuusuke took up more of his time than he should. 

They were careful — well, Makoto was careful and Yuusuke indulged him. Yuusuke wasn’t out anymore than Makoto was, but he was less wound up about it. Yuusuke loved living in their small town as much as Makoto did, but he would probably be happy to move away if he had to. Makoto had no idea what he’d even do — find another shop to work for, probably, but working for anybody other than Shimada Mart felt strangely uncomfortable. Disloyal. Makoto didn’t like that feeling. He didn’t like the feeling of guilt he got lately when sneaking around with Yuusuke either.

Yuusuke looked at him sometimes with an unreadable expression. Makoto thought maybe this time it was Yuusuke’s turn to back off a little. Which was fine, obviously. It was understood that this… this thing they had wasn’t serious, wasn't something meant to last. How could it? 

Keishin was busy talking to Waya, so Makoto gave Shiori a smile. “Are you one of Keishin’s cousins? You must be related, surely?”

Shiori laughed ruefully. “Can’t really hide that, can I?”

“Not really no.” Makoto gestured to his forehead. “It’s the eyebrows, really.” 

“I think they’re distinguished,” Shiori said with dignity before grinning at him. 

“Oh very,” Makoto agreed. “Very sophisticated, I’d say. Classy.”

Shiori tossed her braid and stuck her chin up haughtily. “Naturally.”

“Makoto! You’re here!” Keishin threw his arm around Makoto’s shoulder and stuck his face close to Makoto’s. He was beaming. Makoto wrinkled his nose at the beer breath. 

“Happy birthday,” he said indulgently. 

By the end of the night, Yuusuke was making out with Tatsu’s ex-girlfriend, and Makoto had Shiori’s phone number.

* * *

#### NOW

Makoto felt like his reactions were on a one-second delay lately. He kept spacing out, thinking about Yuusuke. It wasn’t even like he was thinking about anything particularly salacious which he’d at least personally understand. No, it was all mushy stuff. Ridiculous things.

Did Yuusuke want to see a movie? Did he want to stay the night again? Did he want Makoto to stay over at _his_ place? He’d never said much about it. 

Yuusuke never really said much about this at all. Makoto had thought he’d been indulging Makoto, but it struck him that maybe Yuusuke had been afraid to ask for what he wanted. Not in bed, never in bed - but outside it, maybe? 

Makoto thought about it while cleaning the break room floors. He’d talked Rino into cleaning the bathrooms with a promise of chocolate croissants, but the break room was all his. It wasn’t too bad — it was quiet and gave him time to think. The ammonium chloride was just as bad as he remembered it, however. 

He scrubbed industriously at a particularly stubborn spot. Surely Yuusuke knew he could ask Makoto for things now? Makoto could understand it if Yuusuke had been concerned about how he’d react before they started dating, but they _were_ dating now. If there was something Yuusuke wanted, he’d ask for it. Right?

Of course, instead of worrying about it, he could just ask Yuusuke. Yuusuke might laugh at him, but, hell, Yuusuke laughed at him a lot anyway. 

After the break room, he had order forms to go through. The tobacco people were going to call soon so he had to check on their stocks. Rino took care of the soda orders, but refused to deal with the tobacco, and Koharu was too new to take responsibility for anything yet. He planned to hand it over to her eventually, but right now it was all Makoto.

When the office door was closed, he wasn’t disturbed unless there was an emergency. 

Makoto texted Yuusuke to check if he were coming over for late lunch and got an affirmative. That gave him two hours to come up with an angle. Maybe Yuusuke wouldn’t have anything to say now, but if he brought it up, Yuusuke could think about it, if there was anything he wanted, and then tell Makoto later. That made sense, right? Makoto nodded to himself. 

Yata had the late shift so he wouldn’t be in until later. That was good; no danger of sudden awkward interruptions in case Yuusuke did have something he wanted to say.

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 20

Not shying away from Yuusuke took more steel than Makoto thought he’d had. Yuusuke’s touch when it was strictly platonic was too difficult to deal with. But he had to.

They had to stop having sex. Maybe not forever, but definitely for now. It was getting too… too much. 

He didn’t want to stop, which was probably a good sign that they had to.

He couldn’t quite get himself to say “Yuusuke, I think we need to stop having sex”. He should. He knew he should. Pretending that he didn’t know what Yuusuke was angling for with that look in his eyes and the quick brush of his hands over Makoto’s hips was cruel. Yuusuke’s current confusion was going to turn into anger soon, and Makoto couldn’t even blame him. 

But they didn’t have Mamiko and Chinatsu to hide behind anymore. 

Mamiko had never suspected who he was sleeping with, but she’d figured out that it was somebody. Somehow the fact that it would make her sad and hurt had completely escaped Makoto until he was faced with it. He had tried to be a good boyfriend, but he was clearly awful at that. Maybe he was better off not even trying. 

He’d genuinely liked Mamiko and he’d still hurt her. 

But next time. Next time he was going to be as truthful as he could be and it was going to go better. 

He just had to find a girl who was okay with him sleeping with other people. How hard could that be? 

Until then he had to back away from Yuusuke. Without their friends suspecting anything. Which meant hugs and high fives and everything else they usually did in public. 

Yuusuke’s anger never emerged the way he’d expected it to. Instead it seemed like Yuusuke understood, shrugged and accepted it. 

That was good. Makoto was relieved. 

He was. He didn’t want Yuusuke to… to make it into some big deal. He didn’t. But Yuusuke had been different ever since dating Chinatsu and Makoto didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t know how to ask, either. 

He got used to seeing Yuusuke flirting at parties and then vanishing for a little while with the girl of the evening. Makoto didn’t think it was jealousy he was feeling — he hadn’t been jealous before, there was no reason he would be now. It was still… weird. 

Possibly asking a girl out on a date because he wanted to fuck a guy was… not nice, but after four months of watching Yuusuke pick up, Makoto stopped caring. He asked Okada Mai out and hoped for the best.

* * *

#### NOW

“Okay, I thought about it,” Yuusuke said, once he’d come home after work. Home meaning Makoto’s flat, not Yuusuke’s. He kicked off his shoes and walked over to the kitchen counter where Makoto was contemplating biscuit orders. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” 

Makoto blinked at him, partly from surprise, partly to dispel visions of cookie packages. “Yes?”

Yuusuke folded his arms over his chest and stood in front of Makoto as though Makoto was an opposing team he was trying to face down. “I want to tell my sisters about you.”

“That’s fine.” Makoto nodded. That was fair, too, considering Makoto’s parents knew. 

“I want…” Yuusuke took a deep breath. “I want to tell Keishin, too. I know he knows about us, but I want to…” He was blushing a little. “I want to actually tell him that we’re dating. It’ll make him happy.”

Makoto couldn’t suppress the grin spreading over his face. “Yeah, all right. So you want people to know about us?”

“Not the whole world or anything, but important people, yeah, I do.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “Telling people makes it more real.”

“I get that.” Makoto held his hand out towards him and Yuusuke stepped closer, letting his arms fall to his sides. Makoto hooked his thumb into Yuusuke’s waistband, leaving the flat of his palm over his hip.

Yuusuke ducked his head down. “I want this,” he murmured, looking up through his lashes. 

Makoto tilted his head to the side. “Sorry?”

“You, touching me. It’s nice. I like it.”

Makoto blinked at him in confusion. “I’ve always touched you.” 

Yuusuke shook his head slightly. “Not like this, not… Not without it leading to anything. You almost never do that.” 

“Oh.” Makoto tried to think, tried to remember… “I never… You do, though?”

Yuusuke pursed his lips. “Yeah, but you usually don’t do it back. I used to think it was a hint, but now I think you’re just dumb like that.”

“Hey!” Makoto protested. 

Yuusuke raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, fair.” Makoto moved his other hand up to caress Yuusuke’s cheek. “In my defense, you’re really hot, and I like having sex with you.” 

“Never doubted that,” Yuusuke said. 

“What did you doubt?” Makoto wondered, leaving his hand curled around Yuusuke’s neck. 

He couldn’t read the look Yuusuke gave him at that. Yuusuke started to say something, then he wrinkled his nose and paused. “Ugh, no, that’s too melodramatic.” 

“What?”

“I think… It’s hard to believe that you’ll let me be in love with you,” Yuusuke said slowly. 

“I don’t mean to make it hard,” Makoto said, probably a little too earnestly judging by Yuusuke’s sudden grin. “Ugh, you know what I mean. I’m just not sure how to show you that I mean this, that it’s something other than just fucking around now. I’m not sure what you need from me to make this real to you.”

“I don’t think…” Yuusuke hesitated again. Makoto really wished he would stop doing that. “I’ll try to be better at telling you what I need, and other than that… Time? Just give me time. Can you do that?”

Makoto gave him a searching look. “Am I expecting too much from you? From this? You can tell me, if—“

“No!” Yuusuke interrupted. “No, you’re not. But you’re going to have to be a little patient with me. Can you do that for me?”

“If you’ll be patient with me.”

Yuusuke gave him a look full of love as his lips quirked in amusement. “What do you think I’ve been for the last ten years?”


	5. Be As You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keishin's chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but I figure I can't be the only one who needs to be distracted from obsessively refreshing election news from a country I don't even live in. So. Here you go! An extra long chapter, that's almost all about Keishin (and Takeda)! Hope you like!

#### NOW

A blush was staining Takeda’s cheeks, his fists tightly clenched at his side as he straightened out of the bow.

Makoto blinked at him in bafflement. “Erm.”

“I need your help! Please!” 

This sounded very familiar. “…I really, really don’t have the time to coach the volleyball club,” Makoto said, even as he took a step back and gestured for Takeda to enter his apartment. 

Takeda blinked back at him. “What? No! I meant with Keishin.” He stepped inside. He nudged his shoes off and placed them near the door, next to Makoto’s own. He ignored the guest slippers, which was fine, because Makoto did as well. “Keishin is a great coach,” he added, reproachfully. “We don’t want anybody else.” 

For all that Keishin spent a lot of his life denying that he was anything like his grandfather, he certainly inspired the same sense of loyalty (and Makoto had seen photos of Coach Ukai as a twenty-something and Keishin was the spitting image of him. It was even funnier now than it had been). 

Makoto just nodded. “So Keishin, huh?” 

“You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you?” 

“More than a decade now, so yes.” Makoto knelt down on a cushion. He gestured for Takeda to find a seat as well. “I’m still not going to tell you all his secrets. Not that I’m saying that he has any.” Yuusuke probably knew more of Keishin’s secrets than Makoto did anyway. 

“Oh, no. I didn’t… I just want to do something nice for him.” Takeda blushed again. 

“Nice?” Makoto repeated. “Like what?”

“I don’t know? Something he’d like? He does so much for the volleyball club and I feel a little guilty, honestly, when I think about it, but he’s so good too that I can’t really regret it, but…” 

“Right. Well.” Makoto considered it. “He likes konnyaku dumplings?” 

“Oh. Uh. I don’t cook,” Takeda said sheepishly. “I mean. A little, obviously, but I don’t think he’d be super happy about getting food from me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Makoto muttered.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Keishin likes lots of things. It depends on what you want to do.” 

Takeda bit his lip. “I don’t really know? But I want to show him that we really appreciate everything he’s doing for Karasuno.” 

“We?”

“The boys and me!”

“I see.”

“Oh! Do you think maybe he’d like to play a match with the boys?” Takeda brightened. 

Makoto stared at him. “No.” Then he considered it. Playing against Karasuno was fun. Makoto could see the boys growing between each time they played, turning into better and better players. “Well, maybe. But you’re a literature teacher, aren’t you?” Makoto had gotten enough of Keishin’s texts to be fairly certain of this. 

Takeda looked surprised. “Yes?” Maybe he foolishly thought that Keishin _didn’t_ go on and on about him. 

“Keishin likes books. All kinds, I’m pretty sure, but he likes the classics. He loves that one cat book… Damn it, what’s it called again? My name is cat? Something like that. A little ironic, I know.”

Takeda blinked. “I am a cat? Natsume Soseki?”

“Yeah, that one.” 

Takeda sat back, blinking again. “Huh. I didn’t expect that.” His eyes widened and he flailed a little. “Not — Not that I didn’t think Keishin read! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Didn’t think you did.” Makoto grinned. “You should visit him sometime. I’m sure you’d find a lot to talk about once you’ve seen his bookcases.” Admittedly the classics were mixed up with manga, volleyball theory and trashy contemporaries, but Makoto had faith in Keishin’s nerdiness. Given the opportunity to gush about books he surely would. 

“You don’t think he’d mind? I wouldn’t want to overstep,” said the man who’d visited his coach’s friend looking for advice.

“Keishin? No.” Makoto contemplated it. “Maybe you should bring a six-pack or something. He’d definitely like that.”

“He does like beer,” Takeda agreed thoughtfully.

* * *

####  THEN: Keishin at 24

The worst part of being friends with Makoto and Yuusuke was the embarrassment he felt when he thought about the crushes he’d had on both of them. Still nursed a little sometimes, more because it was safe than out of true longing. Keishin wanted a grand romance, but he couldn’t have that. Imagining kissing Yuusuke again was safer than looking at the bartender at the izakaya or the delivery guy who stopped by every week with new magazines. 

Makoto was wide-eyed behind his glasses when he was delighted and sweet when he forgot to be snarky, and had probably done more to influence Keishin’s type than he was willing to admit to. He’d noticed the idle curiosity in Makoto’s gaze, had realized years ago that if he asked, Makoto would say yes. 

It was tempting sometimes to just throw himself at one of them. But he could never make himself do it. He was curious about what it would be like to have sex, but not to the point where he wanted to have it just to have it. He wanted something faithful and monogamous and as far as he could tell neither Makoto nor Yuusuke saw the point in that. He still remembered with humiliating clarity the way Makoto had laughed at his shock at finding the two of them together while Makoto was dating Mamiko. He couldn’t do that. So he let himself look and imagine, but nothing else. 

Yuusuke had offered — “no strings attached” — and his face when Keishin had blurted out “but I want strings” had been enough to tell Keishin that he didn’t have a chance. Honestly he’d never really thought he did. Still one of the most humiliating moments of his life. 

Keishin wanted all of the romantic stuff Makoto sneered at. Keishin stubbornly clung to the idea of it. He didn’t think he’d ever get it, because he was a coward, and what he wanted was what Makoto and Yuusuke had without the bullshit. How was he ever going to get that? A partner he could trust with his life, who knew him, who he could talk to, who would be sweet and love him. It was sad, really, how much he wanted that.

He’d seen Yuusuke and Makoto together when they thought they were alone — not having sex, Keishin was trying hard to suppress having seen those moments — just hanging out. They were comfortable with each other. Yuusuke’s tender touches and the way Makoto leaned into him unhesitatingly, the way they smiled at each other sometimes, that was what Keishin wanted. 

Lately though, with Shiori and Ichika, they weren’t as obvious about it. But Keishin still caught the fleeting glances they exchanged, the way Makoto lit up more around Yuusuke than he ever did around Shiori. Keishin was intensely uncomfortable with all of it. It wasn’t really his business, he knew that, but they were his friends and he was invested. He wanted them to be happy. He wanted Shiori to be happy. 

He half-expected Makoto to laugh at him when he brought it up, but he couldn’t just let this happen without saying anything. He couldn’t let Makoto and Shiori just settle like this. Maybe they wouldn’t be unhappy together, but they wouldn’t be happy either. They both deserved that. He tried to say that, explain it to Makoto so he understood. He wasn’t sure if he could, but he had to try.

“She’s my cousin, Makoto. You’re one of my best friends. This isn’t… Think about what you’re doing, please.”

Makoto didn’t laugh. He was clearly taken aback, but not amused by Keishin’s presumption. Not angry either. Thoughtful, maybe. 

“All right,” Makoto said slowly. He sighed. “All right, Keishin. I’ll break it off.” 

Keishin’s shoulders lowered and he took another drag of his cigarette. “Thank you.”

“No, you’re right.”

* * *

#### NOW

“I can’t believe it,” Keishin said, staring at them. “After a decade of ‘oh, we’re just friends, Keishin’, and ‘not everything is an epic romance, Keishin’, the two of you are dating? For real?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Makoto said, attempting some dignity and failing. It would probably help if he stopped beaming. “But yes.”

“I am happy for you and also very confused?” Takeda said. He looked like a startled bird, face tilted up and hands on his knees as he sat on Keishin’s floor, surrounded by books on volleyball strategy. “Er, should I go?”

Yuusuke eyed him. “Depends. Are you uncomfortable around gay people?” 

Takeda blinked. “No? That would be—“ he cut himself off, then continued when the three of them looked at him, “—kind of hypocritical of me. Um.” 

“You’re _gay_?” Keishin squeaked. 

“Yes? I don’t really try to hide it…” Takeda trailed off when Keishin kept staring at him.

Yuusuke turned to Makoto. “I guess our work here is done.” Yuusuke held his hand up for a high five. Makoto obliged. 

“We’ve turned into those awful couples who just have to pair up everybody else they know as well, haven’t we?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”

They watched as Keishin attempted to half stutter, half yell his way into a date with Takeda. There was smooth and then there was Keishin. Judging by Takeda’s blushing and attempts to halt Keishin’s word vomit to accept, he didn’t mind Keishin’s complete lack of chill. 

“Ah, romance,” Makoto said, smirking. 

Yuusuke threw his head back and laughed. 

Makoto tried not look too besotted and probably failed completely. He was surprisingly okay with it. Traditional romance still did nothing for him, but allowing himself to feel the way he did about Yuusuke had lowered his resistance to a lot of things he would have sneered at for being pointlessly mushy before, like the way his chest felt full and warm whenever Yuusuke was genuinely happy in his presence. Or even the way Keishin was fumbling his way into dating the man of his dreams. Makoto could tell from where he was standing that Takeda’s eyes were bright and fond as he didn’t take his eyes off Keishin’s face. Keishin deserved this.

“I am actually happy for him,” Makoto said, placing an arm around Yuusuke’s waist and pulling him closer. 

“Aa, me too,” Yuusuke agreed. “Or I will be, once he shuts up long enough to hear Takeda’s answer.”

They grinned at each other.

* * *

#### NOW: Keishin

He shouldn’t be this nervous. He was a twenty-six year old man. He ran a store, he coached a boys’ volleyball team, and he even filed his taxes correctly. He shouldn’t be this nervous over a date. 

His hands were clammy so he shoved them into his pockets. It probably wouldn’t help, but. Well. He had to do something. It had been hard to squeeze in a time for a date night with how busy they both were, but Keishin didn’t want to wait. Not when Takeda had said yes. He didn’t want Takeda to change his mind. 

Keishin had been waiting for ten minutes now, but he’d been early in his fear of being late. Takeda would get here, he was sure of that. They’d chosen one of the restaurants with booths so they would have some privacy. Keishin still wasn’t sure he’d want to… to try anything, but at least they’d be able to talk. Takeda was a good conversationalist. He spoke in lofty metaphors a lot which Keishin really liked. Maybe Takeda wouldn’t mind getting flowers. Keishin wanted to buy him flowers. He hadn’t because maybe that would be too much. He didn’t even know if guys gave each other flowers. He was fairly sure Makoto and Yuusuke didn’t, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He hoped so, anyway.

There were a lot of things he’d been waiting a long time for the opportunity to do. 

That didn’t make him less nervous. 

He brightened when he spotted Takeda’s wild hair in the distance, slowly closing in on him. 

They found a booth, and it wasn’t like they’d never gone out before, but those times had been different. Either it had been with other volleyball people, or they’d talked about volleyball the entire night, slowly getting more smashed. This wasn’t like that.

“I don’t do this a lot,” Takeda said. He was pulling his chopsticks apart absently. 

“Neither do I,” Keishin said. It was entirely true. He had no intentions of letting Takeda know exactly how rarely he did this. Takeda seemed to think he was cool for some utterly inexplicable reason; Keishin didn’t want to completely destroy that image of him on the first date. If there was a second, he’d consider it. 

Takeda smiled. 

Keishin made it through the dinner without making an ass out of himself. More importantly, he learned a lot about Takeda. He found out that Takeda had said no the first time Sawamura had approached him about being the volleyball club’s advisor, but he’d changed his mind after overhearing Sawamura and Sugawara despondently comparing their faculty lists and their list of rejections, which by then were about equal. 

“They needed _someone_ otherwise the club wouldn’t be allowed to keep going and… I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let them down.” Takeda gave him a wry look. “I know I don’t know much yet, but—”

“No, but you already know so much more and you, you found me,” Keishin said. That was what it felt like now — like Takeda had found him. 

“You mean, I was a pest until I found the one thing you couldn’t say no to,” Takeda laughed. 

Keishin grinned back. “Yes, that’s what I mean. A lovely pest though,” he added, daringly. “Prettiest annoyance I’ve ever seen.” 

Takeda flushed at that. “I—Well. Thanks. I’m glad I didn't annoy you into punching me.” 

“You weren’t _that_ annoying,” Keishin said. He wasn’t sure if Takeda had really been afraid. He knew he could react a little too quickly at times, and he _had_ grabbed Takeda… “I wouldn’t, by the way. I don’t solve my problems with my fists.” 

“Good to know.”

“A volleyball to the head, maybe, but not fists.”

Takeda laughed.

Keishin walked Takeda home after the date, pausing awkwardly in Takeda’s hallway, not sure what to do next. Takeda gestured for Keishin to follow him inside, and once he had, Takeda slammed him up against the wall. Keishin stared wide-eyed at him. 

Takeda stood on his tip-toes, tugged Keishin down by his hair and kissed him. 

Keishin froze. Arms limp at his sides. He’d kissed before but he still didn’t know how to react. 

Takeda broke the kiss. He frowned. “Was that not okay? Do you not want—?”

“No! I mean, yes! I want!” Keishin assured him. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

Takeda smiled up at him, obviously expectant. 

Keishin kissed him. 

They made out leaning against the wall, until Keishin pulled away reluctantly and excused himself as he had to wake up and do farm work in a few hours. Takeda looked a little surprised, but he accepted it. 

“Um,” Keishin turned with his hand on the door knob. “A second date… Would that be in the cards?”

Takeda smiled and nodded. His hair was even more of a mess than usual after Keishin’s hands had been through it. “Definitely. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

That was the best thing Keishin had ever heard. 

But as lovely as everything was Keishin had no idea how to tell Takeda that he’d never done any of this before and that made him anxious. Anxious Keishin meant a Keishin who tried to drown himself in volleyball. Unfortunately he picked a time when most of the team were busy doing solo practices, which meant that whichever boy he focused on quickly got overwhelmed. Even Sugawara - who never, as far as Keishin could tell, let anything get to him - had been a little white-faced and ready to collapse after the last round of setter coaching. 

He let his grandfather deal with Hinata and Kageyama because frankly, right now, he had no idea what to do with them. Makoto seemed to have Yamaguchi well in hand, and since getting Tsukishima to do anything extra was like squeezing blood out of a stone, Keishin wasn’t even going to try. The rest of the team, however, were training diligently, including the substitute second years. 

Talking to Takeda about the team was a great distraction too. Takeda was endlessly interested in everything Keishin said, which was definitely going to his head. Sometimes they held hands as they bent over their notes and compared them. Keishin loved it.

Still, he couldn’t blame Takeda for giving him slightly disappointed and puzzled looks whenever he left as soon as things got even a little heated. Takeda had yet to actually say anything, but it was clearly just a matter of time.

Keishin couldn’t tell Takeda that he was a virgin. He wasn’t ashamed of it, exactly. But it did make him feel very young and inexperienced in comparison to Takeda, despite there being only two years between then. He also didn’t want Takeda to feel like he had to… to teach Keishin anything. Takeda probably expected Keishin to have some idea what to do in bed and he definitely didn’t. 

He wanted to have sex with Takeda though. 

He wanted that more than anything. More even than seeing the Battle of the Garbage Dump come true. Well, maybe not _more_.

* * *

“Okay, this is stupid,” Keishin said abruptly. He placed his beer firmly down on the table and straightened.

“All right?”

“Have sex with me,” Keishin continued. He looked determined.

Makoto stared at him. “No.”

Keishin turned to Yuusuke. 

Yuusuke raised his eyebrows at him. “No.”

Keishin frowned deeply, then his expression lightened. “Both of you?”

Makoto glanced over at Yuusuke, read the ‘that’s the worst idea I have ever heard and I’m gonna go hard no on that’, and nodded in agreement. “Absolutely not.”

“Just tell your adorable sensei that you haven’t done anything in a while; he won’t care,” Yuusuke said.

“Or ever,” Keishin muttered. He was frowning again. 

Makoto blinked. “You’ve never?” Yuusuke looked surprised as well. 

“No. I mean. I haven’t done much of anything. Who’d I be doing it with? I’m not like you guys.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Makoto sat up. 

“I just wanted it to matter. Want it to,” Keishin corrected himself. He sank down in the couch again, morosely. “But I don’t know how to tell him that. It’s a bit much, isn’t it? We’ve been on a couple of dates, he’s gonna expect…”

“Look, Keishin.” Yuusuke walked on his knees over to him and put his hands on Keishin’s knees. “Don’t think of us as a guide of how it’s supposed to go, okay?”

“Fuck, no,” Makoto agreed. He liked how they had ended up, and he had very few regrets about the past, but calling them a guide for anything would be greatly overestimating things. Especially for Keishin who needed things Makoto and Yuusuke didn’t — or needed less of, anyway. Yuusuke might need words more than Makoto did, but in return Makoto appreciated actions so it evened out.

Keishin frowned. “But you’re… you.”

Yuusuke peered up at him. “How drunk are you?” 

“Not _that_ drunk!”

“You’d have to be pretty drunk to consider me any kind of role model,” Makoto noted dryly. He was sure role models had to be braver. 

“You found Yuusuke though.” Keishin’s lower lip was poking out. 

“ _I_ found _him_ ,” Yuusuke corrected. 

“True. You could consider Yuusuke a role model,” Makoto offered. 

Yuusuke gave him an amused look. 

Keishin kept looking pouty. “I just don’t want to look like an idiot in front him.” 

“Pretty sure you already have,” Makoto said, helpful as always. 

Yuusuke punched him. “Be nice. Keishin has come to us in his time of need. We must assist him. It is our duty as his friends.”

Makoto gave him a disbelieving look. 

Yuusuke pulled out his phone. “I’m sure I saw some safe sex slides while I was on the internet the other day…” 

Makoto grinned and Keishin flopped back on the couch and whined.

* * *

#### THEN: Keishin at 17

Neither of them meant it. Keishin was under no illusions there. Yuusuke’s gently teasing offers and Makoto’s cruder ones were almost all pity which, no. Keishin had said yes to a kiss once and spent the next couple of months regretting it. Not because he hadn’t liked it — he had. Too much so. 

He got used to the temptation of saying yes. That he knew that they didn’t mean it made it easier. He didn’t like being with his friends and having to repress the slight tug of desire, not really, but he got used to it. He was seventeen; a lot of things turned him on.

By looks Makoto was more his type, but he admired strength too. Yuusuke was strong and he was kind and he was a good kisser, at least as far as Keishin’s admittedly limited experience went. Naoi was different. Naoi was his rival and his sort of friend, and got his blood pumping in more ways than one. He was also a frustrating cat person. 

Sometimes Keishin felt like Nekoma took their cat status a little too seriously. They were difficult to play against because of it. Johzenji was easier, despite leaving Keishin feeling like he’d been slowly run over by a bulldozer. “Simplicity and fortitude” apparently meant doubling down on the basics. They were good but frustratingly uninventive. 

He wouldn’t have paid much attention normally but Fujita was hard to miss. He talked to everybody, smiling, flirting, not giving a fuck, while his captain glowered in the background. He was… interesting. 

He spotted Yuusuke and Fujita talking, eating melon rinds and laughing. Makoto was off practicing with Aoba Johsai’s libero and Datekou’s terrifying middle blocker team. Keishin had plans to track down the Datekou ace and setter pair and beg them to show him some attacks. 

But he remembered what Yuusuke had said about hooking up with Fujita last time, and maybe… It was silly to hope, but maybe Fujita would want to talk at least. Maybe more. Keishin suddenly found himself hoping for more, even though so far they’d barely even exchanged words.

Naoi he was terrified to say anything to — what if he didn’t want to be rivals anymore? He couldn’t risk that. Fujita was the obvious choice. Even if he said no, he probably wouldn’t tell anybody, and Yuusuke was reasonably certain that he actually _was_ gay. 

Once he got up his courage and managed to corner Fujita in-between training matches, Fujita hadn’t laughed. At first he’d been casually flirty and when Keishin fumblingly tried to respond — he wasn’t this bad usually but he didn’t know how to do this, how to flirt with a boy, how to flirt with anybody, really — he’d eyed him, turning cautious and quiet. Keishin knew what he looked like, had heard the delinquent whispers, which had increased once he pierced his ears, but Fujita wasn’t a middle schooler on a train, easily taken in by gossip. Keishin thought he should know better. 

“I just — I wanted,” Keishin said helplessly. “I… Your eyes are really pretty.”

Fujita stopped looking like Keishin was about to punch him, straightening up instead of shrinking in on himself. He raised his hands, placed them on Keishin’s chest and pushed him back, giving himself some space. Keishin had both height and weight on Fujita but let himself be moved. He’d pulled Fujita with him into an empty bathroom, but he hadn’t meant to crowd him and scare him. He’d just wanted—he’d been eager and nervous and Fujita had pulled away from him. He’d just wanted to keep Fujita from running off before he could say anything. 

Fujita tilted his head. “You’re Takinoue’s teammate, aren’t you? The setter?”

Keishin nodded.

“Okay,” Fujita said, shrugging. “Why not?” 

Fujita started to get down on his knees. Keishin turned bright red. “No!” he yelped. “I didn’t mean—!”

Fujita narrowed his eyes at him, straightening again. “What did you mean, then?”

“I thought… I wanted… Do you like ramen?” 

“Who doesn’t?”

“I do too. So. Um. Do you want to have ramen with me?” Keishin scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Fujita stared at him. “Are you asking me out?” 

“Yes?” Keishin said, uncertain. He didn’t understand why Fujita kept staring at him like that. Fujita liked boys didn’t he? Dating was a thing, wasn’t it?

Fujita blinked. Strangely, he was blushing now. “Oh. Um.” 

Keishin wanted to babble, explain that Fujita was very pretty with his shoulder-length black hair and bright blue eyes and Keishin was very, very gay, but that probably wouldn’t help any so he kept quiet, waiting for Fujita’s answer. 

“…Yes,” Fujita said finally, after taking approximately a million years to stare at Keishin. Maybe searching his face for signs that Keishin was joking, but why would he joke about something like this? It was much too scary to joke about. 

Keishin beamed in relief. “Yes! Good! I mean, um, tomorrow we have an early break, so maybe that would be a good time? Is that okay?”

Fujita nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll find you.” He gave Keishin a small smile that somehow seemed more real than the flirty ones he gave everybody. 

Keishin was practically floating when he rejoined his team. He was spacey enough that even the captain noticed it. Makoto didn’t, but he caught Yuusuke giving him a thoughtful look. Yuusuke didn’t say anything though. 

The date itself was fine. Keishin was too nervous to really enjoy it, and to his surprise, Fujita seemed nervous too. He hadn’t expected that. 

It took a while, a lot of stops and starts, but they got a conversation going, talking about their respective teams. That was how Keishin realized that Fujita was in love with the stern Johzenji captain. He recognized the look Fujita got when he talked about the captain. Yuusuke looked the same whenever he thought himself unobserved while watching Makoto. 

Keishin was disappointed, he couldn’t lie to himself about that. 

At least he’d managed to ask Fujita out, and he’d gone on a date; he was proud about having accomplished that much, but. Well. He couldn’t date somebody who was in love with somebody else, no matter how much Fujita insisted that the Johzenji captain was straight and nothing would ever happen between them. 

“Trust me, he would’ve taken me up on it by now if he weren’t,” Fujita said. “You seem like a nice guy, are you sure? I wouldn’t mind trying something long distance.”

Keishin nodded. “I’m sorry.” 

Fujita waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” A little while later, once they were on their way back to the school, he slowed down and said, hesitantly, “I wouldn’t have sex with anybody else if you didn’t want me to. If we were dating.”

“It’s not that!” Keishin exclaimed. He was blushing again, he just knew it. “I mean, it is, a little.” He could be honest about it. People talked about this kind of thing, right? Expectations and stuff. He vaguely recalled Makoto talking about it once. “But even if I can’t date somebody who’s actually in love with me, I don’t want to date somebody who’s in love with somebody else. That’s just asking for heartbreak.” 

“I told you, he’s not interested.”

“But you are.”

Fujita sighed. “Yeah.” 

They reached the school, and Fujita put his hand on Keishin’s arm and looked up at him. He really did have pretty eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want— I mean, I’m sure we could find somewhere to hide away if you wanted…” he trailed off, grinning a little at Keishin’s expression. “I see that’s still a no. Okay, but text me if you change your mind?”

When he got back to the classroom where Karasuno was sleeping, Yuusuke didn’t say anything when Keishin sat down next to him, shoulders drooping. Yuusuke pulled him into a hug and deflected Makoto’s curious questions and Keishin was grateful. He didn’t think he could possibly explain anything to Makoto. He was sure Makoto wouldn’t understand.

* * *

#### NOW

The Neighborhood Association drinks and meat fest was held at Makoto’s. Beer and meat skewers and disposable plates littered every flat surface. Makoto had hidden all his crap in his bedroom. It usually didn’t get too rowdy, but he still didn’t want accidentally-spilled beer all over his things. 

“That’s new,” Mori said.

Uchizawa looked over at him. Mori nodded towards Makoto and Yuusuke. 

Tatsu peered over at them as well, eyes big behind his glasses. 

“Uh?” 

“You’re holding hands,” Keishin said helpfully. He’d definitely entered tipsy. He was smiley and loud. 

Makoto looked down at his hand. He wasn’t exactly holding Yuusuke’s hand, but he was definitely playing with it. Yuusuke seemed amused. 

“Did you not realize you were doing it?”

“No… I mean. I knew but I wasn’t really paying attention? Do you mind?”

“Nah.” 

“You guys are weirder than usual,” Tatsu announced. 

“We’re not weird,” Makoto protested, linking his fingers with Yuusuke’s. “We’re dating.” 

Yuusuke blinked at him, but didn’t protest. Their friends hadn’t been on Yuusuke’s list of who he wanted to tell, but Makoto couldn’t imagine that he’d mind. Makoto had always been the one who’d wanted to keep everything a secret. Who’d _needed_ to keep it a secret. Yuusuke cared less. Not because he didn’t love his family, or his friends, or was oblivious to how he might get treated; Yuusuke was just more inclined to not give a fuck in general. Makoto _cared_. Maybe slightly less than Keishin did, but not by much. 

“Is this one of those ‘let’s see how much Mori will believe’ things?” Mori asked suspiciously. 

Yuusuke laughed. “No. No, we really are dating.” 

Tatsu glanced over at Keishin. “You’re okay with this?” 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” Keishin faltered, suddenly uncertain. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” 

“Nooo… I guess…” Tatsu and Waya exchanged a look, before Tatsu shrugged. “We always figured you and Yuusuke might, you know—“

“ _Keishin_ and Yuusuke?” Makoto sat up straight. “What the hell?”

Yuusuke ducked his head and laughed quietly into the crook of Makoto’s neck. Makoto patted him absently on the head while staring at Tatsu, who was, quite rightly, starting to look a little sheepish. 

“Well, you were always dating somebody,” Tatsu said, a little defensively. 

“You can’t be mad that they actually bought it,” Yuusuke said. He curled an arm around Makoto’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“Can too.”

“In retrospect, I don’t know what we were thinking about,” Waya said, smirking. 

“Wait. But. I’m not. I’ve never,” Keishin said, incoherently, eyes wide and confused. He scowled suddenly. “But you guys keep trying to set me up with girls!”

Uchizawa, Tatsu and Waya squirmed at that. Mori sipped his gin and tonic with an air of superiority. Like Yuusuke, he’d never gotten into that particular way of teasing Keishin. Makoto had, sometimes, even though he knew better, because Keishin’s frustrated rage was pretty hilarious.

“Um. Yeah…” Tatsu said. “About that.”

“Well, it’s not like you ever said yes!” Waya pointed out. He looked guilty. 

“Of course I didn’t!” Keishin narrowed his eyes. 

“It was just innocent fun!” Uchizawa said. He cast Keishin an apologetic look. “We’re sorry?”

“Fuckers.” Keishin scowled at them. He shook his head. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal.” Makoto knew him well enough to see the hurt underneath. He glanced up at Yuusuke, hoping he could read the question in his eyes. 

Yuusuke answered him by loosening his embrace and sitting up. He pushed a hand through his hair, then climbed to his feet. He walked over to Keishin, placed a gentle hand on his arm and coaxed him with him out the door to Makoto’s tiny front yard. Keishin shook him off, but ducked his head and followed Yuusuke out. 

There was an awkward silence when they left. 

Makoto raised an eyebrow towards Waya who still looked guilty. “So me and Yuusuke - not on your radar, huh?”

“You hide well,” Waya said. Tatsu nodded. 

“Thanks, I guess?” 

“You can’t be mad we thought you were straight, can you?” Mori said. Judging by his look he had no problems believing that Makoto could be even though he’d deliberately done his best to keep anybody from suspecting otherwise. Makoto had never been jealous of Yuusuke and Keishin’s relationship so it was strange to be suddenly insecure about it, just because his friends had thought… But Makoto knew Yuusuke loved him.

“I could be if I wanted to,” Makoto said and Mori laughed. 

“Wow, are you five?”

Makoto stuck his tongue out at him. 

“How long…?” Uchizawa started asking before interrupting himself. “Not that you have to tell us if you don’t want to.” 

Makoto gave him a curious look. “Do none of you care that we just came out to you?”

“Not really,” Waya said, around a mouth full of chips. 

Tatsu poked him. “You mean: We’re very supportive and… and… Damnit, I don't remember the speech.” He frowned, distressed. “It was such a nice speech too.”

Uchizawa shrugged. “We like Keishin,” he said simply. “We got used to the idea. Yeah, you and Yuusuke together is a little weird, but.” He shrugged again. “It kind of makes sense too?”

Makoto at sixteen would never have believed this could be this easy. Makoto at twenty-six wasn’t so sure he believed it either.

* * *

#### NOW: Keishin

“They’re making fun of me,” Keishin said. He didn’t like feeling like this. He was angry, and hurt, and bewildered all at once. 

Yuusuke shook his head, then he nodded, and finally he just shrugged. 

“Thanks for clearing that up.”

Yuusuke sighed. “I just… they weren’t doing it to be mean.” 

“But they knew about me. I’ve never even — I _haven’t_.” That was the worst part, being laughed at for something he’d never even done, by people he’d thought were his friends. Keishin was determined not to cry about it though. He lit a cigarette to give himself something else to focus on.

Keishin could bluster and shout his way through most things, except this. He’d always felt bad lying about it, but he’d seen how scared Makoto was, and his parents kept bugging him about grandchildren and getting married, and it was just easier not to say anything. It wasn’t as though it had any real impact on his life. 

Or it hadn’t. But now he had Takeda. Takeda who was sweet and persistent and somehow amazingly seemed to like Keishin back. Keishin still didn’t quite believe it. 

“No,” Yuusuke shook his head firmly. “No, they didn’t know. They suspected, maybe, but they didn’t _know_.” He hesitated. “Well, Makoto knew, obviously. But not any of the others.” 

“Did Makoto know about us too? I mean about…” The one time they’d kissed, Keishin’s crush on him in the months after. Keishin still couldn’t make himself say it.

“Uh. He does now? I didn’t tell him before because I didn’t think it was any of his business.” 

“Is he mad?”

Yuusuke gave him a confused look. “No? Why would he be mad?”

“Because… Because we kept it a secret from him?”

“Nah. I don’t think Makoto ever cared about that. I’ve never told him everything I do, you know.” Yuusuke smiled a little. “Most things, yeah, but not everything.” 

“Do you love him?” Keishin had wanted to ask Yuusuke that for almost ten years. Had asked, too, but Yuusuke was good at deflecting. Maybe this time he’d actually get an honest answer. 

“Yeah.” Yuusuke smiled at him. “But you knew that.” 

Keishin nodded. “Does he love you?”

Yuusuke hesitated. He nodded slowly. “I think he does, yes. I don’t think…” He bit his lip. “I don’t think he would have done any of this, told people, if he didn’t. It’s a little hard to believe sometimes, but I’m trying.” He sighed. “We were really young, Keishin, when we started messing around. Neither of us had any idea what we were doing, and he never knew how I felt about him back then, and I was too scared to tell him. I don’t know. Maybe we just needed to grow up.” He gave Keishin a searching look. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you though. Whatever I did… I never meant to do that.”

“I know that.” Keishin didn’t need Yuusuke to tell him that. Neither of them had _intended_ to hurt him. Even Makoto at his most provocative had never meant to hurt him and apologized whenever he realized that he had. 

“But I did, huh?”

“It was more me being stupid than anything you did.” He took a drag off his cigarette. “Thanks for turning me down the other day, by the way,” he added, wincing a little as he remembered that stellar idea of his.

Yuusuke raised a surprised eyebrow at him then he smirked. “You’re welcome.” He crouched down, apparently tired of standing up, and Keishin joined him. “I found those sex ed flash cards I was talking about though, if you need them.”

Keishin shoved him. 

Yuusuke toppled over with a laugh. He righted himself after a moment and ended up sitting crosslegged on the grass. “You’re good, right?” he said, giving Keishin a searching look. “You and Takeda, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Keishin felt his face soften into a soppy smile. “Yeah, we’re good.” He twisted his head to make sure the door was still closed behind them. “He said… He’s okay with going slow if that’s what I need, and I guess it is. I mean, I want him?”

Yuusuke nodded. He was smiling a little.

“But he said it’s not like it’s mandatory to have sex right away and he can wait until it’s right for both of us, which is nice of him, I think. I thought he’d find it exhausting having to deal with me, but he doesn’t seem to think it is.”

Yuusuke tilted his head at him. “What do you mean?”

Keishin shrugged. “Wouldn’t you find it exhausting if you had to teach Makoto everything about sex?” It made sense to him that experience would be better in this case. Maybe when he’d been younger it had been cute, maybe if he’d been a woman it would have been okay, but he was a twenty-six year old man — Takeda couldn’t possibly find Keishin’s inexperience much fun.

Yuusuke stared at him incredulously. 

“What?”

“First of all, I kind of did,” Yuusuke said. “Secondly, that’s stupid.”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry but it is. I bet if you ask him, he’ll say the same thing. Do you know how much bad sex I’ve had with Makoto? Because it’s been kind of a lot — he’s actually fallen asleep on me a couple of times which is really great for the ego, let me tell you — but I never cared because it was with him. …And the next time is usually better. Just. Sometimes things are messy and weird and that’s _fine_.” Yuusuke paused then added, “and don’t go around thinking Takeda is doing you some huge favor by not demanding sex right away when you’re not comfortable with it, because he’s not.”

Keishin wasn’t sure how to react to that. “Makoto is always saying I’m making sex into too big a deal though,” he said finally, uncertain. He hadn’t minded thinking that Takeda was being kind by waiting. 

Yuusuke closed his eyes and sighed. “Look, I know you have a crush on him—“

“I do _not_!” _Anymore, anyway_ , Keishin added silently.

“—But you’ve got to understand that Makoto is kind of a dick. A lot of the time, he doesn’t mean to be, but he is.”

“I know that.” Keishin did know that. They all could be sometimes in various ways. He didn’t think Makoto was particularly worse than Yuusuke was, or himself.

“Yeah, so don’t…” Yuusuke opened his eyes again. “Don’t take what he says to heart. Don’t think about what either of us would do, because we’re not you. Takeda likes _you_.”

“You feel pretty strongly about this.”

Yuusuke shrugged. “I don’t want me and Makoto to fuck up your relationship.” 

Keishin laughed. “You won’t. If anybody is going to fuck this up, it’s going to be me.” He realized that probably didn’t soothe Yuusuke’s worries any. “I mean, it’s not about you. It’s about me and Takeda, and, no offense, I like that it is. I like having something that’s just mine. Someone who’s just mine.” It was what he had always wanted, and maybe it wasn’t perfect yet, and maybe Yuusuke was right about Takeda not doing him a favor, maybe there were things they both needed to work on, but it was still _his_.

* * *

#### NOW: Yuusuke

“Keishin okay?” 

Yuusuke nodded. “He’s fine.” He sat down next to Makoto again, watching the intense card game Makoto was apparently sitting out. The pillows were a comfortable mix of colors and shapes. Makoto leaned towards neutrals, so Yuusuke took any sign of colors as a result of his own influence on Makoto. Makoto had left an indelible print on Yuusuke’s life over the years; it was nice to see a hint of it being mutual. “Are you playing the victor or something?”

“Nah, they’re playing Hearts.” Makoto hated Hearts. Yuusuke suspected competitive family childhood trauma. Makoto turned his head away from the game with a grimace. “Is he really?” 

“Fine? Yeah. He was a little upset, but he’ll get over it. You know Keishin.”

Makoto hummed in agreement. He leaned into Yuusuke, slowly sipping whatever cocktail monstrosity he and Mori had cooked up this time. Yuusuke had nothing against cocktails, but when Makoto and Mori made things up they tended to end up variations of Long Island Ice Teas and Yuusuke had burned himself on that before. He had no intention of doing it again. 

“What about you?” 

Makoto turned his head slightly to give him a puzzled look. “What?” 

“You just came out to your friends. Are you okay?” Technically Yuusuke had as well — and they seemed to have pulled Keishin with them too, which hadn’t been intended — but being bisexual had never been a big deal to him. He’d kept it as hidden as he had because of Makoto, because if people knew about Yuusuke, they might start wondering about Makoto too, and Makoto would have hated that. 

“Yeah,” Makoto said slowly. “Apparently everybody really likes Keishin. I hope he knows that.” There was something ugly in his voice that made Yuusuke give him a sharp look. Makoto closed his eyes and tipped his head towards Yuusuke’s shoulder. “Apparently Uchizawa and Tatsu have had a speech about team mates and acceptance in the works for the last five years. Because they thought Keishin was in love with you and they wanted to be supportive.”

“He’s not,” Yuusuke said, picking the one thing he actually could comment on. “I don't think he’s ever been. Not really.”

Makoto hmmed. “You kissed though.”

“Are you really upset about it?” A jealous Makoto was a strange thought. 

Makoto made a face after a moment. “No. I guess not. I’m just… Do you think Uchizawa and Tatsu would have done that for me, if they’d known? Because I don’t. It’s nice that they don’t care, that we won’t have to quit playing with them, but I just feel… Kind of like I’m cheating?”

Yuusuke blinked. 

“I know. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t care. I’ll get over it soon enough.” 

Yuusuke eyed him. “Are you upset because this isn’t difficult enough?”

“No,” Makoto said unconvincingly. “Because that would be silly.”

“It really would,” Yuusuke agreed. 

Makoto took another sip of his cocktail monstrosity. “Okay, yes, I am, I guess, because—“ he waved his hand, “if everybody’s so fucking _fine_ with it, why didn’t I do this years ago?” He frowned down at his drink. “Or why didn’t Keishin? Why didn’t _you_?”

“Um.” Yuusuke tried to come up with a logical reason other than ‘because I was in love with you’ and mostly failed. He genuinely didn’t give a fuck what people in general thought and Makoto knew that. “I thought it wouldn’t be that difficult to figure us out if I was out. I mean, we’re friends? But it probably wouldn’t be that hard to draw the right conclusions with some incentive.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

Makoto scowled. “So it’s my fault. Great. Wonderful.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Yuusuke said patiently. “How many of those have you had, by the way?” He nodded at the drink.

“…Three? I think?”

“All right, I’m cutting you off after this one.”

Makoto pouted, but Yuusuke held firm. Drunk and belligerent Makoto was not his favorite Makoto. 

“There wasn’t really a reason for me to come out to anybody,” Yuusuke said, once he’d thought about it and grabbed a beer in hopes that it would, against all previous experience, inspire clarity. “I mean, I don’t date much, I never have — and that’s not just because of you. I’ve just never wanted to. And I don’t feel the need to throw all my one-night-stands in everybody’s faces, and I’ve never been any kind of activist, and it’s not like this place has a gay scene of any kind, so… I don’t really see it as anybody’s business but mine.” 

Makoto frowned at him. “But don’t you feel like you’re lying to everybody?”

Yuusuke blinked. “No.” 

“Weird,” Makoto decided. He seemed a little baffled now, which Yuusuke considered an upgrade over angry. 

“Maybe.” Yuusuke shrugged. He wasn’t too concerned about it. He understood perfectly well why Makoto felt the way he did about it, but that didn’t change anything for him. He jumped a little at the sudden burst of laughter from the guys still playing their card game. A quick look told him that their friends were considerately ignoring them, laughing at Tatsu whining about a mistake he’d made. 

A sigh from Makoto made him look over to his boyfriend again. Makoto looked a little deflated. “I wish I could just… not care the way you do.” He picked at his glass. 

Yuusuke shrugged again, helplessly. “It’s not bad to care.”

“Maybe not, but it’s exhausting.” Makoto glanced up at him. He was still pouting a little, but his eyes were warm again. “But not caring about you. That part I’m fine with.”

“Aww!” Yuusuke couldn’t help cooing. “Adorable Makoto is a definite upgrade over angry Makoto!”

Makoto flushed beet red and bashed him over the head with a handy pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a [mood board](http://flywithturtles.tumblr.com/post/152507288498/i-have-a-pintrest-board-for-this-never-ending#tumblr_notes) feat. random actors/singers/models as the boys!


	6. Heart on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuusuke's chapter, and a lot of past angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at least you know it's going to end happily, right?

#### NOW

It made his heart flutter embarrassingly, the way Yuusuke looked at him now. Like he’d finally been allowed to show everything he’s been holding back for years. Makoto hadn't even realized that he had been holding back anything. 

Yuusuke grimaced at that. “You make it sound as though I spent the last ten years pining after you and playing sad love songs in the dark or something. It wasn’t like that.” 

“What was it like, then?” Though Makoto thought he could guess. Yuusuke had realized how he felt earlier than Makoto did, but that was all. He knew what it was like to long for something more, but being pretty happy with what you had at the same time.

Yuusuke played with Makoto’s hair as he thought. “It was on and off, really. I mean, when we were sixteen, I had the biggest crush on you, so that was hard, but—”

“Wait, you what?” Makoto twisted around in his embrace to give him a disbelieving look. “You did not. I would have known.”

“Why do you think I kissed you that first time?”

“I don’t know, I just figured you were horny.” 

“Well, yes,” Yuusuke agreed. He didn’t look like he was in pain. He looked like he was remembering something fondly. “And then Chinatsu confessed, and I dated her, and once we broke up, and the two of us started up again, it had faded a bit. It was less… intense. It didn’t matter so much that you barely treated me any different from how you treated Keishin.” 

“I never slept with Keishin,” Makoto pointed out. He shifted to rest his back against Yuusuke’s chest again. 

Yuusuke shrugged. He cuddled him closer, hands resting on Makoto’s stomach. “You would have if Keishin would’ve been up for it.”

“Well, yeah,” Makoto admitted. Maybe more out of curiosity than anything else, but yeah, he would have. “And so would you.”

“I… Yeah. It would have been a mistake though.”

“Undoubtedly.” Stomping all over Keishin’s feelings. “You really had a crush on me back then?”

“Yep.” 

“Huh.”

* * *

#### THEN: Yuusuke at 16 and 17

Yuusuke had been thinking about kissing Makoto for weeks now. He hadn’t really decided on doing it until he did, but he’d thought about it, sure. 

That in itself didn’t mean much. Yuusuke thought about kissing lots of people. Whenever the volleyball club members inevitably segued into chatting about which girls they currently had a crush on, Yuusuke always had at least four or five names to throw out. Miyano from 3-2, and the pretty runner on the track team, and the waitress at the Patisserie (“She’s at least twenty! You have no chance!”). The others just rolled their eyes and groaned by the time he was on his third name, and somebody else would start talking over him until Yuusuke gave in and shut up. 

He had an equal number of boys’ names, but he kept those silent until the occasional laughing ‘if you had to kiss a guy’ debates. Currently the boys the entire volleyball club had agreed were the most desirable were the third year libero (“you’re just saying my name because I’m short and have long hair! Morons!”), the basketball captain (“I mean. Wow. Like… Wow. Did you see the game the other day?”) and the new young school librarian (“He’s just so _nice_ ”). Yuusuke didn’t necessarily disagree, but the only one who made a vague murmur in agreement when he threw out the name of the student council president (dark hair, glasses, neat dresser but messy tie) was Keishin. 

Makoto had given it a thorough consideration and finally said the basketball ace (tall, blond, the friendliest jock you’d ever meet) to the approval of everybody else, so Yuusuke was at least a little optimistic about his chances. 

And he _liked_ Makoto. He really did. 

He hadn’t had that much to drink — but he wasn’t used to drinking, so not that much was probably more than enough — just enough to make him less cautious and more impulsive. Pulling Makoto with him behind the potted plants in the corner and stuttering out a “I want—Can I—?” and then kissing Makoto hadn’t been a carefully thought out plan. He’d thought maybe. Maybe he’d do it. 

The plan had been to confess. 

Because that was what you did when you had a stupid crush on somebody, when making somebody smile made you blush, when you thought about kissing them, when you wanted to be with them all the time. 

Makoto curled his hands into Yuusuke’s hoodie and kissed back and Yuusuke was so, so happy.

He’d tried not to expect anything — good or bad. He’d hoped Makoto wouldn’t punch him and be pissed that a guy dared to have a crush on him, but he’d thought it might happen. Worst case scenario and everything. Yuusuke didn’t like thinking about that. Waste of time worrying too much about things that might never happen. Makoto kissing him back had been — well, he had hoped. He wouldn’t have done it at all if he hadn’t had hope. 

“Um. We should go…somewhere else,” Makoto said once they pulled apart. His glasses had been knocked a little askew and he was blushing. 

Yuusuke couldn’t explain later why the laundry room was the first place that popped into his head — maybe because when he was little and played hide and seek, he always found the laundry room a great hiding spot or maybe it was just because laundry was usually the last thing on any volleyball player’s mind. Yuusuke had been doing his laundry since he was ten because it wasn’t like his parents or his sisters had the time and sports gear need a lot of cleaning. He didn’t mind it. 

Makoto backed him up against the washing machine and kissed him again, mouth opening when Yuusuke responded, and then there was a tentative tongue touching his, and that was, wow, that was even better. 

He meant to ask Makoto if they were dating now, if that was something Makoto would want, but he forgot about it. 

He was hard and Makoto was too, but he didn’t feel the urge to do anything about it here. He would jerk off later, when he was back home in his bed, while thinking about Makoto’s lips, his hands, the little pleased sighs when Yuusuke did something really right. But right now this was enough. 

In the morning he realized what he’d done. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t bring it up. In the clear light of day he wasn’t as stupidly optimistic as he was yesterday; he knew what Makoto thought. “When I get married—“ “When I have kids—“ that was Makoto. 

He was surprised when Makoto wanted to do it some more. 

He said it’s nothing serious, said it’s just fun, it’s just buddies, and he tried to mean it. To a degree, he did, because it _was_ fun, making out with Makoto, figuring out what made him shiver and press against Yuusuke, what made him moan. Discovering that Makoto liked to use his mouth was _really_ fun. 

Then Keishin found out, and Yuusuke had never seen Makoto so terrified. It made something inside Yuusuke pulse painfully. He couldn’t make it better. He couldn’t make Makoto less scared and he refused to be the reason Makoto was scared. He wanted to be Makoto’s support, he wanted to be trusted. He didn’t want _this_. 

He lost the chance to tell Makoto how he felt long before Makoto started dating Mamiko. 

Chinatsu was a mistake, but they stayed together as long as they did because the sex was nice, and Yuusuke didn’t have a good reason to stop. The good thing about her was that she let Yuusuke get a bit of distance with Makoto. They went for months without hooking up while dating their respective girlfriends. 

Makoto seemed to actually like Mamiko though so, yeah, Yuusuke was a little surprised when Makoto invited him over for a study session and then got on his knees. “Is this okay?” he asked, hands on Yuusuke’s thighs. 

“Like I’m going to say no to you,” Yuusuke said, with a little too much honesty, but it wasn’t like Makoto noticed. 

Ten years later he realized that it’s not so much that Makoto didn’t _notice_ as it was Makoto not understanding. 

When he was seventeen, he offered to fuck Keishin, no strings attached, and it was a little like that first time with Makoto, except he meant it this time. He liked Keishin. He liked him a lot, but he wasn’t in love with him. 

“But I want strings,” Keishin said. Yuusuke didn’t know what his face was doing, but whatever it was, it made Keishin flush bright red. 

“Sorry,” Yuusuke said helplessly. He intended to be kind. This wasn’t… he didn’t know. “I don’t—“ he broke off. He couldn’t tell Keishin that he didn’t love him. It seemed cruel, and it wasn’t entirely true anyway. 

Keishin nodded. “I know. That’s why I can’t say yes. I want… I want everything? Not just to get off with somebody.” He smiled a little, in the wide-eyed, shy way he did sometimes when he forgot himself. He did it less as he got older and Yuusuke found himself missing it. “I want to fall in love and have it mean something. Be stupidly romantic, all that.”

“Like a shoujo manga.”

Keishin laughed. “Exactly like a shoujo manga! Well, maybe without the misunderstandings.”

Things would be so much easier if Yuusuke could just fall in love with Keishin. 

He’d already realized that love had nothing to do with what’s easy, though.

* * *

#### NOW: YUUSUKE

“Hey,” Makoto said. “Wanna move in with me?”

“No,” Yuusuke said. 

Makoto gave him a disappointed and faintly hurt look.

Yuusuke shook his head at him. “We haven’t even been dating for very long, and your place is bigger than mine, but it’s still pretty much for one person only.”

“I suppose… But, I just want…” Makoto trailed off. 

“Everything?” Yuusuke suggested. It was sort of sweet the way Makoto went all in, but it was also way too fast for Yuusuke. It was very much what Makoto was like: he might spend a lot of time mulling things over and he didn’t easily change his mind, but once he did, it was lightning fast. 

Normally Yuusuke went along with it, but the faster Makoto moved with their relationship stages, the more he felt like he was slotting into some weird ‘fiance and future wife’ box in Makoto’s head, and he was certain he didn’t like that. He didn’t think Makoto was doing it deliberately, but he’d always known what he was supposed to be doing, what he was expected to do, and Yuusuke thought he was still trying to follow those unwritten rules as best as he could. 

Yuusuke wasn’t so sure about that. He’d never been one for following unwritten social rules too tightly. 

Makoto rolled his eyes at himself, grinning a little. “Yes. Don’t you?”

“I do, but, we have time, you know? Everything doesn’t have to happen today.” 

“But it could,” Makoto said. He was sitting crosslegged on Yuusuke’s floor, sorting through Yuusuke’s ancient collection of VCDs. He’d started out wanting to just chuck the entire box into the trashcan, but Yuusuke had put his foot down. So now Makoto was sorting it instead. 

“I guess it could.” Yuusuke held his hand out for the VCD Makoto was waving at him and read the label. “Yeah, okay, you can throw this one out.” 

Makoto looked pleased as he placed it on the throw-out pile. 

“I’m still not sure why you’re cleaning my apartment, you know,” he told Makoto. 

“I’m allergic to dust,” Makoto said straight-faced. 

“You are not.”

“Then I’m allergic to messes. If I’m staying over more—“ Yuusuke couldn’t remember saying anything about wanting Makoto to stay over more. He did, because there was something about Makoto coming to him that really did it for him, but he hadn’t said anything about it. “—I’m not going to lie in bed, thinking about your piles of crap and how the only thing that’s sorted here are your saucepans and your cords.” 

Yuusuke failed to see why anything else needed to be sorted, but if it made Makoto happy…

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 21

Makoto tripped over yet another pile of random wires and stumbled his way to one of Yuusuke’s bean bag chairs. He collapsed in it. “Seriously, your place is a hovel. Do you even _have_ lamps? Or furniture? I mean, excepting your admittedly impressive tv stand?”

“Shut up,” said Yuusuke. “You have no room to talk. Your flat looks like a Muji shop front.”

Makoto threw a dvd cover at him. “It does not!” Yuusuke was right though. Makoto’s flat as it was right now was all white, beige and blonde wood. Clean lines and tidily organized. It was possible that the occasional pop of color wouldn’t exactly hurt.

“Does too. Colors aren’t evil, you know.” He beamed for a moment at his tv. “And neither is technology.” 

“I never said they were! I’m just saying maybe you should tidy!”

“Eh.”

“One of these days you’re going to break your leg and I will be saying I told you so at least once a day while you heal.”

Yuusuke laughed at him.

* * *

Yuusuke grabbed a rainbows’ worth of household appliances and drove it all over to Makoto’s. “Here,” he said, shoving a teal rice cooker at a startled Makoto. “You need some color in your life.” 

“Uh,” Makoto said. “Thanks?” His eyes widened when Yuusuke turned on his heel, went back to his car, and came back with a stack of boxes. “What the hell?” 

“Color,” Yuusuke insisted. He would have picked up rugs and pillows too, but, well, that seemed a bit much. He could play this off as overstock and going out of stock wares, but Makoto knew perfectly well that Takinoue Electronics didn't stock textiles. 

He shoved Makoto aside and strode into his kitchen. He put the boxes down on the counter then opened the top one. The water heater was in hot pink zebra stripes. Yuusuke quite liked it. Makoto followed him and put the rice cooker down as well. He winced at the water heater. 

“Really?”

“If you’re not willing to spend your own money, you take what you get,” Yuusuke said. 

“I have a microwave!” Makoto protested.

Yuusuke snapped his fingers. “Right, that reminds me — I’ll be right back!”

“Yuusuke!”

When he came back, trying to get a good grip on the sunflower yellow microwave, Makoto was opening the rest of the boxes while sighing to himself, as though getting free appliances was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Makoto was so dramatic. Yuusuke placed the new microwave on the floor and started to lift the old, boring microwave off the counter. “I’m confiscating this,” he informed Makoto.

“But it works just fine,” Makoto said sadly. 

“It’s both boring—“

“Classy!”

“ _Boring_ ,” Yuusuke insisted. “And ten years old at least. You’re getting a new one. Be happy.”

“Ugh.”

Makoto didn’t seem too displeased once he’d discovered the new coffeemaker however.

* * *

#### THEN: Yuusuke at 24

Yuusuke tried not to think about how much he wanted this to be more than it was. He wanted to be a part of Makoto’s life - an unquestioned second half. He knew that Makoto cared about him, he’d have to be blind not to see the warmth in his eyes, but there was a difference between caring and loving. Yuusuke could no longer pretend he didn’t love Makoto more than he should. He suspected Makoto would never allow himself to love like that. 

It had been easier when he was sixteen. It hadn’t seemed that way at the time, of course, but it had been. He had too much time to think these days. Sometimes he got angry and sulky and avoided a confused Makoto for days, but that never lasted. Even when they weren’t fucking, Makoto was still one of his best friends. 

“I think… I think we should stop. This. Doing this. Because you’re with Shiori now, and, yeah, I think we should stop.” His gut was churning with anxiety and Makoto didn’t get it. He could see Makoto not getting it. A part of him wanted to say nothing, to not bring it up, because so much of their relationship — this part of their relationship — was unspoken. They didn’t need a lot of words to make it work. Usually. 

But Shiori changed things. Partly by being Keishin’s cousin, and partly because Makoto was serious about her in a way he hadn’t been about his last couple of girlfriends. 

Keishin had known about them almost from the start. Yuusuke thought he didn’t quite approve, too romantic to understand, but sometimes jealous too of what they had and he didn’t. Well, he’d be happy now (Yuusuke knew that was unfair, knew that Keishin wouldn’t be, knew Shiori wasn’t Keishin’s fault either, wasn’t anybody’s _fault_ except maybe the shitty world they lived in where Makoto didn’t dare to be who he was, but he was resentful anyway). 

Makoto’s girlfriends had never been a big deal before. Hell, he’d had girlfriends too. Fucking wasn’t always a part of their friendship, but as time passed it got more and more difficult to pretend friendship was all he felt for Makoto. Maybe it would have been easier to stop if he thought Makoto didn’t care about him at all, but Yuusuke didn’t think that. He thought that if Makoto would just let himself, he could love Yuusuke back. 

But he saw no sign that Makoto _would_ let himself do that.

“Okay,” Makoto said carefully. “If you think that’s best.”

Yuusuke nodded jerkily. 

And that was that. 

He waited for news of their engagement, burying his feelings and trying to tell himself that it was for the best, but the announcement never came. Instead he ended up with a tentative Makoto knocking on his door, smiling a little awkwardly. “I—we broke up? So I thought… I wondered… May I?” 

Yuusuke knew it hadn’t been because of him, but Makoto was watching him worriedly, biting his lip, and it felt like maybe it had been. 

Yuusuke opened the door wider and let Makoto in, the way he always did, maybe always would.

* * *

#### THEN: Yuusuke at 25

“You’re in love with him,” Ichika said. 

Yuusuke didn’t want to talk about it in general and he definitely didn’t want to talk about it while naked in bed with his girlfriend. He made a face at her. 

She grinned. “I don’t care. You know I don’t care.” Yuusuke thought he could probably have easily fallen in love with her if he hadn’t known how desperate she was to get out of this town. One pathetic unrequited love affair was enough for him, thanks. 

“It’s not that. I just. Don’t want to talk about it.” He didn’t try denying it. There was no point to it. 

“I’m leaving soon,” Ichika said. “Like, in a couple of weeks.” She sat up and watched him for his reaction. She tugged at her pastel blue hair. While he’d known her she’d gone through purple, silver, pink, and now blue. Ichika got bored quickly. He was a little surprised she’d stayed with him as long as she had to be honest. 

“What?”

“It happened really quickly… I’ve been meaning to tell you.” 

Yuusuke pulled his sweater over his head. “I’ll miss you,” he said. 

“You’d miss me less if you hooked up with Makoto,” Ichika said, suspiciously innocently. It could just be out of the goodness of her heart, wishing him all the best and so forth, but more likely… 

Yuusuke narrowed his eyes at her. “Look, I’m not going to up and quit my job and follow you to—“

“Osaka,” Ichika supplied. Her dimples were showing now. 

“—Osaka, right. You don’t have to reorganize my life to get me to stay.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” 

“You know me better than that.”

“I do, you’re absolutely right.” Ichika was contrite. She pulled at his sweater. “You should still do something about your Makoto-thing, though. I’m not joking about that.”

Yuusuke made a face at her. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

That clearly surprised her. “You have?”

“Mm. He doesn’t date guys though.” Had sex with, yes, dated, absolutely not. Yuusuke was painfully aware of this fact. 

“You could convince him?” Ichika suggested. She bent over the side of the bed to grab her crumpled up dress. “I’d be willing to provide references on how you’re a great boyfriend if necessary.” 

“Yes, because that wouldn’t freak him out at all,” Yuusuke said. He liked Ichika’s pragmatism, but sometimes it resulted in odd situations. A thought struck him and he flopped down again. “Oh damn. Does this mean you’re not coming with me to the Brecht thing?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Ichika brightened. “But you can—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll ask Makoto.”

Ichika looked pleased. 

“He hates this kind of thing though, there’s no way he’ll actually come.”

* * *

#### NOW

Makoto leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Yuusuke rapidly chopped his way through a basket of mushrooms. “Mushroom soup? Ramen?”

“Yeah,” Yuusuke nodded. “My sister gave me a bunch. Need to use them for something.” 

“Are you going to leave some for me?”

Yuusuke grinned as he scooped the chopped mushrooms into a bowl. “If you want. I did invade your kitchen to cook, after all.” 

“Which I’m absolutely not complaining about,” Makoto assured him. He snagged a mushroom while Yuusuke wasn’t looking. “But why?”

“No reason. Your kitchen is bigger than mine.”

“Because I’m an adult with an adult-sized kitchen,” Makoto said. Yuusuke’s room was still basically a comfortable cave with a very small hot plate/microwave/rice cooker set up - Yuusuke somehow managed with that, except when he got the urge to do large batches of something. Makoto even had benches and space for more than one appliance at the time. Admittedly he didn’t use his kitchen much for serious cooking, but he liked having the option. Makoto was capable of cooking fairly complicated dishes as long as he had a recipe, but most of the time he stuck to ‘does it take less than ten minutes to make? Yes? Excellent’.

Yuusuke grabbed the carrots and started slicing them. “So, my uncle called me in to the office for a talk today.”

“Yeah?”

“He wants to give me a promotion.”

“That’s great! Isn’t it?”

Yuusuke paused. “I guess?” He didn’t sound too sure. 

Makoto stole a couple of carrot slices right in front of Yuusuke’s eyes without Yuusuke reacting. “Higher pay, right? You could move out, find a nicer place. One with an actual kitchen.” 

The town was small enough that it was possible to get a decent sized apartment if not an actual house on a shop worker’s salary. Makoto could probably have afforded a bigger place if he wanted, but he’d moved into his flat when he was twenty and it was comfortable. He liked it; it had all his things. He could fit all of his friends if he wanted to. But where his place was light and airy, Yuusuke’s was tiny and dark; not, admittedly, helped much by the one small window on the short wall, the fact that it was a studio and Yuusuke’s apparent inability to get rid of his old electronics.

“I guess,” Yuusuke said again. He went back to chopping carrots. 

Makoto eyed him. 

“It just… A promotion means more responsibility. I’m not sure if I’m ready. I’m not sure I _want_ to be ready. It’ll probably change my hours some as well, which I guess might be fine, but—“

“What, really?” Makoto was surprised. “But you like working late and doing all the random tech support stuff, don’t you?” It would drive Makoto nuts, but Yuusuke had always liked it. 

“Yeah, I do.” Yuusuke wrinkled his nose unhappily. “But…” 

Makoto reached out and placed his hand gently on Yuusuke’s arm. “Don’t do it if you’re really not sure, but I definitely think you’re ready for extra responsibility.” 

“Of course you’d say that.” Yuusuke gave him a quick smile. “No, I don’t know. I’m thinking about it. I… We could hang out more, I guess, if I changed my schedule.” 

Makoto dropped his hand. That had occurred to him as well. “I don’t feel neglected or anything. I like our — the coffee mornings and the late lunch and everything.” Still, now that they were officially dating and everything it might be nice to have a more compatible schedule; see each other for more than a couple of hours a day. 

“I like it too, but.” Yuusuke put his knife down and turned around to face Makoto. “I would like to spend more time with you.” 

Makoto flushed scarlet in an instant. “Okay.” 

Yuusuke tilted his head at him. “Okay?”

“Me — with you — as well — umm,” Makoto stuttered out. “I would… I would like that too.” 

Yuusuke’s face lit up. A broad grin appeared. 

Makoto smiled back, putting his hands up to his burning cheeks, clapping them in hopes that he’d stop blushing for no good reason. There was no reason to be embarrassed about wanting to spend more time with his boyfriend. Liking spending time together was a reason they _were_ boyfriends, after all.

Still, he couldn’t help it. He felt vulnerable like this, a bit like a teenager, even though he’d never felt like this _as_ a teenager. Not even about Yuusuke. 

Though if this was anything close to how Yuusuke had felt back then, when he had a crush… Some of Yuusuke’s behavior which had baffled him back then now made perfect sense.

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 17

Mamiko was sweet and smart. She wasn’t Yuusuke, but Makoto only admitted to comparing them at all at 3 am while he was also panicking about the future, graduating and working full time at the store under mom, while his dad focused on the second store. He’d worked part time since he was 14, but did he really want to do it for the rest of his life? His parents seemed to think so. His grades weren’t awful though. Surely there were universities in Japan where he could pass the entrance exams? 

He’d be cutting himself off from so many options if he stayed. But did he really mind it or did he just feel like he should? Because half the people in his class kept talking about how they couldn’t wait to leave. Three am was an awful time to be awake, he decided, shifting on the futon and staring glumly up at the ceiling. 

Mamiko still had a year to go and had already started afternoon classes twice a week, wanting to improve on a couple of subjects because she wanted to go to the University of Tokyo and it was important to be prepared. Makoto hadn’t expected somebody this drawn to small cute things to be so driven, but Mamiko definitely was. Her pencils might all be topped by big-eyed animals, but her essays were sharp and concise, nothing cute about those. 

Keishin, who was inexplicable good at what interested him — Japanese literature and advanced math of all bizarre combinations — kept unenthusiastically looking at universities with Makoto. “I like this place though,” he said. “I don’t think I’m a city person. So crowded and so lonely at the same time.” 

“Have you seen my grades?” Yuusuke said, laughing as Chinatsu twitched uncomfortably. Makoto _had_ seen Yuusuke’s grades though. In some subjects he got better grades than Makoto did, so he wasn’t sure why Yuusuke kept pretending to be a dumb jock. It definitely wasn’t to charm Chinatsu because she was clearly embarrassed by it. “Uncle has promised me a job troubleshooting tech stuff though, so it’s fine.”

“Takinoue Electronics?”

Yuusuke nodded. “I won’t earn an awful lot at the beginning, but uncle says there are advancement opportunities and stuff.” He shrugged. “Seems fine.”

“Mom says I can work at the store until I figure out what I want to do with my life,” Keishin said, radiating relief. “Maybe help out on the farm, too.” 

It was good that Yuusuke and Keishin were staying. Makoto had other friends, but nobody he was as close with as the two of them. It made it easier for Makoto to stay. He kept his grades up though. He might want to do something later. 

“You’re staying too, right?” Yuusuke asked. He’d showed up at Makoto’s house with miso soup and salmon rolls. Makoto wasn’t going to say no to that, even if it did lead to serious conversations about the future. 

Makoto nodded, putting aside his university applications with a sigh of relief. Maybe once he had more experience at the shop, he’d want to take some management classes, maybe some courses in accounting, but right now he was happy that he didn’t have to go straight into more schooling. 

Yuusuke smiled at him, clearly pleased. Makoto admired the lines of his back when he bent over to clean off the low table so the food could fit on it. Makoto had a habit of stacking books, printouts and magazines on pretty much any flat surface in his vicinity. His parents made him tidy at regular intervals, but lately they’d both been busy at their respective stores so Makoto had let himself spread out over most of the living room. 

He still desired Yuusuke. There was a guilty lump in the pit of his stomach when he thought about it, when he remembered how it felt when Yuusuke touched him, so different from how Mamiko did. He’d only slept with Mamiko once so far and it hadn’t been bad. It hadn’t. But Mamiko was curvy with soft small hands and nervous giggles. She’d apologized for her inexperience. “I’ve read stuff, of course,” she’d said, blushing, hands stroking restlessly down Makoto’s back. “But I haven’t ever…”

“That’s fine, it doesn’t matter to me,” Makoto said, trying to be reassuring even though her nervousness made him nervous too. 

It had been over pretty quickly. He’d asked if she’d gotten off too, feeling stupid as he asked, but she hadn’t said anything and he couldn’t tell. She’d looked at him in surprise, which had made him feel even more awkward and dumb. Makoto wasn’t used to feeling like that. He didn’t like it. He did like Mamiko though. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her, but he still wanted to treat her right. 

“Yes, it was… It was nice,” Mamiko said. She was blushing again. Then she’d offered him the use of her shower which he’d gratefully accepted and afterwards they’d watched tv and studied. 

Makoto wished he could want her the way he wanted Yuusuke, but he didn’t. He could fool himself into thinking he did. For a short while. Until he spent time with Yuusuke again, and it was abundantly clear that he didn’t.


	7. Sunny Days and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys bonding, both past and present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the end! I hope you've had as much fun reading this as I had writing it! Thanks for reading <3

#### THEN: Makoto at 19

It had been two weeks of a dreamy summer vacation — sun, fishing, boat trips, swimming, hikes in the woods, card games, drinking, talking, lazy days and lazier nights, and kisses. Mostly kisses once Makoto got past the initial “it’s been five months — get your pants off” reaction. Yuusuke had been mostly amused by his eagerness, but he’d reacted with gratifying speed. 

Makoto and Yuusuke had driven to the cabin together because there was no way all three of them could fit into Keishin’s tiny yellow car and Keishin loved his stupid yellow car; he was not leaving it behind. They’d arrived way ahead of him, and that was what had led to Keishin walking on them.

Makoto had felt someone’s eyes on him and had looked up to the sight of Keishin watching them from the doorway, longing written all over his face. Not a longing for either of them, as far as Makoto knew, more a longing for what they had, even as small as that was. He didn’t usually do anything with Yuusuke when they were in danger of being caught — definitely not a kink Makoto had — but the only one who could walk in on them here was Keishin, and he already knew they fucked around.

“Want to join us?” Makoto asked, tilting his head back to allow Yuusuke easier access to his neck. Yuusuke murmured quizzically as he kissed his way up Makoto’s throat. “Keishin’s here,” Makoto explained. Yuusuke licked him, then lifted his head to look towards Keishin as well. 

“Hi handsome,” Yuusuke said, smirking a little. 

Keishin blinked at them. He was holding on to the doorway now. The cabin was small enough that Makoto could see the way his knuckles were whitening from where he was sitting on the couch. “Are you two going to be like this the entire time we’re here? Because I’d rather spend the springtime of my youth literally _anywhere_ else if so.” 

“Still a virgin, huh,” Makoto noted. He knew what he was saying was cruel before he even said it, but annoyed by the interruption and lashing out just because he could, he said it anyway. “Sure you don’t want us to teach you a thing or two while we’re here? How to suck cock, maybe? Or do you just want to watch me do it? I’ll do it to you, if you want me to, Yuusuke won’t mind.”

Keishin turned red. “Fuck off!” he bit out before storming off. “Just—just fuck off, the both of you!”

Yuusuke dropped his head onto Makoto’s chest. “That was mean.”

Makoto sighed. He’d thoroughly killed the mood. “I know.”

“Keishin is a fragile flower, you can’t tease him about this stuff.” 

“I know, I know.” 

“Go find him and apologize.”

“Ugh.”

“You can suck me off later, when he’s asleep.”

“I like how you make it sound like you’re doing me a favor when you say that,” Makoto said dryly. He shoved Yuusuke off and swung his feet onto the wooden floor. 

Yuusuke raised an eyebrow at him. 

Makoto rolled his eyes back, suppressing a grin. “Yeah, all right, shut up.”

Since the only grudge Keishin had ever kept in his life was against Nekoma — it had been almost two years and it was still a little odd that they were never going to play against Nekoma ever again — Keishin forgave him. He hadn’t even gone very far. He was sitting on the pier, dangling his legs into the water, looking towards the mountains on the other side of the lake. Makoto crouched down next to him, resting his wrists on his knees.

“I’m sorry.”

Keishin shrugged. “It’s okay. I know you guys think I’m stupid for waiting.”

“What?” Makoto was surprised. “No. What makes you say that?”

“You think love and romance and all that stuff is silly. Sex is just sex, feelings have nothing to do with it.” 

“Yes,” Makoto admitted. He put his hand on Keishin’s arm. “But that’s for me, not you. If you want to wait until you find somebody you have feelings for, that’s not something I should tease you about, not if it makes you feel bad.” He was awkward when it came to talking seriously about these kinds of things. Teasing was so much easier. Yuusuke could handle it, gave as good as he got most of the time, but Keishin had weak spots, things Makoto couldn’t tease him about without it actually hurting. He never meant to stumble over those weak spots but he’d done it often enough throughout the years to know that embarrassing himself by talking about feelings was the fastest way to make up for it. 

Keishin glanced over at him, suspicious. “I’m almost twenty and I’m still a virgin. You’re telling me you don’t think that’s pathetic?” 

“Yeah. You could be almost thirty and still a virgin, and it would be fine. Virginity is a stupid concept anyway. Like, if I jacked you off right now, would you still be a virgin? There wouldn’t be any penetration, _you_ wouldn’t be doing anything…” Makoto trailed off when Keishin jerked his arm away and turned red. “Uh, not that I would! I’m so sorry I keep sexually harassing you today. It just seems to keep happening.”

Keishin snorted. “I think you’re just sexually frustrated. It’s okay if you and Yuusuke wanna hook up while we’re here, you know,” he added. “But, not while I’m actually in the room.”

Makoto brightened. His excitement must have been more obvious than he’d intended because Keishin laughed, turning his head back towards the lake. “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said about you, Keishin — you’re awesome!” He leapt on his feet to rush back to Yuusuke. “Stay here for, like, fifteen minutes, okay? Thanks, you’re great!”

“Hey! What do you mean ‘every mean thing’?!” Keishin yelled after him.

The whole trip to the cabin in the middle of nowhere had been Keishin’s idea, because they’d been so busy since they graduated, working almost every day. Sure, they had hours off here and there, but often they were at completely different times, so the three of them hadn’t spent that much time together lately. 

Since it _had_ been Keishin’s idea, Makoto tried to keep his hands off Yuusuke when they were all together, or at least tried to keep any touching PG-rated. Yuusuke seemed to be on the same page, so mostly they just cuddled while ignoring Keishin’s raised eyebrows. 

Luckily, Keishin actually enjoyed taking long walks in the wilderness which left them with plenty of time on their own. 

Makoto tilted his head back expectantly as he accepted the beer can Yuusuke handed him. 

Yuusuke froze for a second then dipped his head down, giving him the brief kiss he was wordlessly demanding. He sat down in the wooden chair next to Makoto. They were sitting next to the water, pretending to fish. It was a late summer afternoon, still warm and pleasant, and they were the only people around for kilometers. They were more in danger of running into bears than other people. 

It was relaxing. 

Keishin looked mildly surprised when he came back from his hike and found them trash talking each other’s fishing skills. “Is this some kind of weird, kinky foreplay I’m much too innocent to get?” he asked as he dug a beer out of the tiny cooler. 

“Yes, I find dead fish very sexy,” Yuusuke deadpanned. 

“So hot,” Makoto added, narrowing his eyes at his fishing line. There were fish in there, he’d seen them. Why didn’t they want his tasty, tasty, shiny lure?

“I’m banning this kind of filthy talk on this trip,” Keishin announced. “Also, have neither of you gone fishing before?”

“Um.”

“Well…”

Keishin put his beer down and held out his hand. “Give it here, let me show you how it’s done.”

The day ended with Keishin teaching both of them fishing skills. He spent a lot of time laughing. Afterwards he was laughing at Makoto’s grossed out face as Keishin and Yuusuke cleaned the fish (most of which Keishin had caught). 

“You like eating fish though.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like guts and blood and wobbly bits,” Makoto said, grimacing as he picked up one of the wobbly bits between his thumb and index finger. He quickly dropped it again. The consistency wasn’t any better than it looked. “Gross.”

Yuusuke gave him an amused look, then his brow furrowed in concentration as he sliced the next fish open with quick, smooth motions of the knife. 

“Nice!” Keishin slapped him on the back. “If you’re not prepping, you’re definitely cooking, by the way,” he added to Makoto.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

For dinner Makoto served them fish and rice. Neither of them seemed to mind the fish was slightly charred, thanking him politely before digging in. They’d each taken turns at being the cook, since that seemed the most fair, and shared all their meals together. Makoto liked the routine they’d established. It was one of the nicest parts of the trip. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Keishin. He’d known he missed Yuusuke, but missing Keishin had been a surprise.

After a week and a half, Makoto had gotten slightly better at catching fish, but still without fail left the fish on the pan too long. 

They spent the days by the water a lot. Makoto had dragged a chair over to a nicely shadowed spot and was half reading a crime novel, half being amused by Keishin’s antics, when Yuusuke joined him. 

“I would mind, by the way,” Yuusuke said, following Makoto’s gaze. Keishin was wearing board shorts and not much else, growing bangs pulled back by a headband, splashing about on the shoreline. Makoto found him entertaining to watch. 

“What?”

“If you hooked up with Keishin here. I’d mind.”

Makoto looked over at him. Yuusuke seemed perfectly calm. “What are you talking about?” Then he remembered. “Oh, that. That wasn’t… I never thought he’d say yes.”

Yuusuke shrugged. “I know, I’m just saying. You said I wouldn’t mind it and that’s not true. I’m not expecting you to not have sex with other people, but I don’t want you to have sex with Keishin while we’re here. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Makoto said. This entire conversation was baffling. It wasn’t a difficult promise to make though. “I won’t. You do know that Keishin is all about that true love crap, right? The only way he’d say yes would be if I got him hella drunk, and I’m not actually that much of a dick.”

“Sometimes you’re so…” Yuusuke trailed off and sighed. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Thanks.”

Makoto stared at him. “…You’re welcome?” Sometimes he really didn’t understand Yuusuke at all.

* * *

#### NOW

Somewhat to Makoto’s surprise, Keishin was managing low key perfectly well. Sure, he kept giving Takeda looks with ‘wow, you’re precious and adorable’ written all over his face, but it wasn’t like he was the only one who did that. Most of the volleyball club seemed to look at Takeda much the same way. It probably helped that whenever they were together in public, Keishin could talk volleyball almost 100% of the time. 

However…

“I’m banning volleyball talk for the next three hours at least,” Makoto announced over cries of dismay that faded as he handed around the drinks they’d ordered. “No, come on! This is supposed to be a non-work get together!”

“I would like to get to know you better,” Takeda said shyly, voice breaking through the complaints. “I mean, you’re all best friends, you know a lot about each other. It would be nice to, well, find out what you guys like aside from volleyball.”

Keishin’s grumbles died away. “Well, if you want… We do talk a lot of volleyball though,” he pointed out. “I think it’s our default topic.”

“Yes,” Makoto said patiently. He was aware. “That’s why I’m banning it.” 

“And no talking about the latest Shimada Mart discounts,” Yuusuke said, grinning like he didn’t try to push the appliance of the month in whatever color of the week he’d decided on onto all his nearest and dearest and random strangers alike. 

Makoto made a face at him. “Yeah, okay, I’m banning _all_ shop talk. Happy?”

Yuusuke made a so-so motion with his hand. 

Makoto stuck his tongue out at him. 

“I swear you two are worse than the team,” Keishin noted. “Less yelling so far though.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the loud one!” Makoto protested. 

Takeda was grinning at all of them. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a very calm and collected individual,” Keishin lied. 

Makoto gave him an incredulous look. “Since when?”

“He doesn’t shout _too_ much,” Takeda said. He’d somehow managed to get halfway through his glass already. 

They had the room to themselves, but Keishin still glanced around before giving Takeda a quick kiss on the cheek. “At least somebody appreciates me.”

Makoto and Yuusuke ooohed in unison. 

Keishin lobbed a chopstick at each of them and flushed. 

Takeda looked like he was too startled to blush. The look he gave Keishin made _Makoto_ want to blush, so he cleared his throat and tried to find another topic. They really did talk about volleyball a lot. 

“So Takeda, where are you from?”

Takeda reluctantly looked away from Keishin. “Me? Miyagi, actually, but I’ve lived in Tokyo for a while too.”

“And you moved here?” Makoto was surprised. People who moved away rarely moved back. 

“The big city wasn’t for me. It’s impersonal, and this—“ Takeda gestured to the room they were sitting in. “—Is really the only way to get together with friends. Which is nice,” he hurried to add. “Don’t get me wrong. But I like inviting my friends to my place too.”

“You should invite us,” Yuusuke said. “We’re very friendly!” 

Takeda laughed. “We’ll see! Where do you live?” He gave Makoto a quick glance even though the question was directed towards Yuusuke.

“Yuusuke’s place is the cave where old electronics go to die,” Makoto said. 

“Yeah, it’s awesome!” Keishin agreed enthusiastically. 

Yuusuke smirked at Makoto’s disbelieving look. 

 

“…Yes, _obviously_ Hamlet, but when you see the character development in the later seasons—“

“You’re thinking MacBeth, aren’t you?” 

“Yes! Can’t you see how it parallels—“

“This is the most boring conversation I’ve ever been unfortunate enough to listen to,” Makoto said interrupting the conversation. Really, one short trip to the bathroom and this was what he came back to? 

Takeda blinked up at him in confusion while Keishin and Yuusuke looked completely unrepentant. 

“You should read more Shakespeare,” Yuusuke said. “It’s funny. Look, they agree!” After years of seeing plays with Yuusuke, Makoto knew enough about Shakespeare to be fairly certain ‘funny’ wasn’t usually an adjective applied to either of those plays. He was also fairly certain they’d started out talking about an anime Keishin and Yuusuke were inexplicably obsessed over. Honestly, he’d expected better from Takeda though.

“Then they can go with you to whatever Western-Eastern fusion monstrosity you want to see next,” Makoto said. He brightened a little at the thought because that wasn’t actually a bad idea. 

Yuusuke blinked up at him, pouting a little. “But I like seeing things with you. You always have such refreshing insights afterward.”

Makoto eyed him. “I hate almost everything you make me go see with you.”

“Yes!” Yuusuke nodded eagerly. “And then you tell me why you hate it and that’s interesting!”

Takeda was watching them amusedly. He was holding Keishin’s hand now, Makoto noticed. Ugh, they were sickeningly adorable. He ignored the way Yuusuke’s thigh was brushing up against his own, the warm flutters it gave him. That was different, obviously. 

 

“I don’t have _favorites_ ,” Keishin said indignantly. 

Makoto nodded. “Of course not.”

“Because that would be wrong.”

“Right, right,” Yuusuke agreed nodding as well. He gave Keishin a sly grin. “But if you _did_ have a favorite, who would it be?”

“Sugawara,” Takeda said confidently. He faltered a little at Keishin’s surprised look. “No? I thought for sure…”

“But he’s just the backup setter,” Makoto protested. He was sure Sugawara possessed many sterling qualities and was an all round great guy, but that didn’t have anything to do with volleyball prowess. 

“Ugh,” Keishin said, giving in. “Yeah, it’s Suga. He’s nowhere near as good as Kageyama is, or Oikawa from Aoba Jousei, but he’s got a fighting spirit and he’s loyal to the club and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him give up on anything.” He scowled at his drink. “Is what I would say if I did have a favorite which I do not. So there.”

“Mine is Tadashi,” Makoto said, grinning widely and not even dodging the cocktail umbrellas Keishin pelted him with. 

“That’s cheating! You cheater!”

“What about you, Takeda? Who are your favorites?” Yuusuke was laughingly gathering up the cocktail umbrellas, creating a tiny beach scene by his beer glass. Makoto removed the one that had got stuck in his hair and handed it over to him. 

“Oh, well, I don’t know…” 

“No, come on, I’m curious.” Keishin tilted his head and widened his eyes at Takeda in a transparent attempt to look cute. It really shouldn’t work as well as it did. 

“They’re all great boys,” Takeda started and held up his hands defensively when Makoto and Yuusuke started booing him. “But, I suppose Nishinoya is quite impressive?” 

Keishin grimaced a little. “Loud, so very loud. And energetic.”

“Yes, because you yourself are so very calm and quiet?” Makoto raised an eyebrow. 

“…Yes.” 

Even Takeda laughed at that. 

“You kinda were though, when you were younger,” Yuusuke said thoughtfully. “Intense, sure, but not loud exactly. Not that kind of loud anyway.” 

Keishin eyed him. “I wasn’t exactly shy with my opinions, come on, Yuusuke.”

Yuusuke made a face. “I’m not saying you were shy, just that you didn’t draw a lot of attention to yourself. That was more me, I think.”

“I was a backup setter,” Keishin protested. He was pouting. “I was supportive from the sidelines! I think! Not to the point of doing cancan lines, but…”

Takeda patted his hand. “I’m sure you were adorable anyway.”

“Nah.” Makoto shook his head. “He was… He wasn’t bad looking. But adorable really isn’t the word.”

 

Several drinks later, Takeda snuggled into Keishin and set his eyes on Makoto who blinked back at him. “Did the three of you ever…You know.”

“Ever what?” Makoto said blankly. He wasn’t at his sharpest this many drinks into the night. 

Yuusuke was quicker, or possibly more dirty minded, because he laughed. “Wow, you’ve got a filthy mind, sensei.”

Keishin squeaked in surprise, flushing. “Ittetsu!” 

“Oh!” Makoto turned red as well, but really Yuusuke was the only one who wasn’t at this point. Makoto usually had no problems talking frankly about sex, but talking with Yuusuke and Keishin about these kind of things was _very_ different from talking with Takeda about them. “No. Why do you ask?”

Takeda shrugged. Makoto didn’t get the feeling he was judging them in any way. 

“Did you think I meant I haven’t done anything ‘except with Makoto and Yuusuke’?” Keishin looked confused. 

“I think threesome is a little above Keishin’s current difficulty level,” Yuusuke noted. 

“We kissed once though,” Keishin offered. He glanced over at Yuusuke, a little flushed. 

“Damnit, I wanted to tell him that!” Yuusuke exclaimed. 

“Just the once? Was it that bad?” 

Yuusuke raised his eyebrows at Keishin. “No. But…”

“It wasn’t ever going to be anything other than messing around,” Keishin said. “And that wasn’t something I was interested in.”

Takeda looked over at Makoto. 

Makoto shook his head. “No, never.”

 

“What about you, sensei? Please, tell us everything about your sordid past.” Yuusuke leaned forward invitingly, grinning. 

Takeda laughed. “It’s not that exciting, I’m afraid. I’m a pretty boring person.” 

“I think you’re plenty exciting,” Keishin said earnestly. 

“Ugh, disgusting,” Makoto said, but quietly. 

Yuusuke turned his head to give him a sweet smile. “I think _you’re_ plenty exciting.” 

“I hate you so much.” Makoto blushed and resigned himself to remaining bright red for the rest of the night.

 

“I just like teaching, I suppose. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.” Takeda cocked his head. “Well, for a while when I was four, I really wanted to be a stripper.”

“What?”

Takeda grinned. “I wasn’t a big fan of clothing and somehow — I have no idea how — I knew that strippers took their clothes off for a living. Obviously I grew out of that,” he added. “Clothes are great!”

Keishin looked stunned. “Stripper..?” he said weakly. 

“All right, no,” Makoto said. He smacked his hand down on the table a little too enthusiastically. “Ow. But no. There will be no lap dances or stripping sessions in this room.” He considered it. He glanced over at Yuusuke who by now was half asleep, elbows on the table and head in his hands. “Unless…”

Yuusuke blinked slowly at him. “No.”

“Then the ban stands.” Makoto nodded firmly a couple of times. 

“You’re very bossy,” Takeda noted mildly. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

 

“I like him,” Makoto told Keishin when they were outside for a breath of fresh air and a quick smoke. 

Keishin smiled. “I do too.” 

Makoto kicked his shin lightly. “So…”

“Hm?”

“C’mon, spill. What’s he like in bed?” 

“How should I know?” 

Makoto stared at him. “The two of you still haven’t..? Wait, does that mean that you’re still..?”

“Yes and yes.” Keishin flushed, but he looked at ease, comfortable with himself. “I mean, we will. But we’re waiting until we have more time, so it doesn’t have to be so rushed. And, we kiss? A lot. Like. A lot. But, yeah.”

“…You’re planning some huge romantic getaway, aren’t you? Just you and him and some fancy hotel room in the city?” 

Keishin beamed. “Yep!”

“I can’t believe you’re one of my best friends. That’s the most stupidly mushy thing I’ve ever heard of,” Makoto said. His words would probably make more of an impact if he wasn’t grinning back at Keishin. “Takeda agreed on that?

“It was his idea!”

“Ugh, gross, the two of you deserve each other.” 

Keishin looked like he was about to burst from joy. 

Unable to hold back any longer Makoto glomped onto him, squeezing him tightly. “I’m so, so happy for you, Keishin. I hope this relationship will be everything you wanted it to be.” 

“It’s _real_ which already makes it better than anything I could imagine.” Keishin’s voice was a little uneven. “I’m happy for you too, by the way. I don’t remember if I said.” He tilted his head back a little, catching Makoto’s eyes. “Be good to each other, huh?”

“We’re doing our best,” Makoto promised. 

“You better.”

 

It really didn’t make much of a difference whether they went home to Makoto’s or to Yuusuke’s, so Makoto let Yuusuke lead their way to his place. It was marginally tidier than it had been, but Makoto still found himself walking with exaggerated care over to Yuusuke’s bed. He sat down and looked up at Yuusuke who’d finally managed to kick his shoes off. “Are we fucking?” he asked hopefully.

Yuusuke raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re just going to fall asleep on me again.”

“No, I won’t,” Makoto lied. 

Yuusuke joined him on the bed. “Liar,” he said fondly. 

“I bet Keishin and Takeda are fucking right now,” Makoto tried.

Yuusuke grinned. “I bet you they’re not.” 

Well, that had been a long shot anyway. Yuusuke probably knew way more about Keishin’s lack of a sex life than Makoto did. He’d probably known they were waiting. Makoto had just assumed that after Keishin’s little crisis, he’d have told Takeda everything and then they’d both jump each other and then happy endings all around. Clearly Makoto had underestimated their sappiness levels.

Makoto draped his arm over Yuusuke’s shoulder and poked his cold nose into his neck. Yuusuke shuddered but didn’t shake him off. “I’m willing to accept cuddles.”

Yuusuke tilted his head back a little and gently removed Makoto’s glasses, putting them down on the bedside table. Makoto blinked up at him. It always took a moment before his eyes adjusted, but while his eyesight was shitty, he could see Yuusuke well enough when he was this close. The grin had softened to a smile. “You’re cute like this.” 

Makoto wrinkled his nose. “‘m not a puppy.”

“Other things are cute too,” Yuusuke laughed. 

“I’m hot and incredibly attractive,” Makoto said, dignified, enunciating the words very precisely. He probably couldn’t have sounded more drunk if he’d tried. Makoto didn’t care. 

“That too.” Yuusuke sounded much too serious. Makoto blinked again, but was distracted by the way Yuusuke was pulling his sweater over his head. Makoto took the hint and tugged his own sweater off too. Normally he would have thrown it on the ‘not dirty enough’ chair, but Yuusuke didn’t have one, so he just dropped it on the floor. 

Cuddles were an acceptable substitute for sex when Makoto was this drunk. Mostly what he wanted was the touch of Yuusuke’s warm skin, the way Yuusuke curled into him and held on, the closeness. He hadn’t been so good at admitting that before they started dating. It was easier now. When he knew Yuusuke wanted this as much as he did, when he didn’t have to suppress his yearning, when he wasn’t so scared. He probably always would be a little bit, but he was trying to be better. 

“Sorry,” Makoto mumbled, patting Yuusuke’s naked chest clumsily. 

Yuusuke looked up from fumbling with his pants to give him a baffled look. “For what? Getting drunk? Because I’m not exactly sober here.”

“No. For the—you wanted touching that wasn’t sex? I remember.” 

“It’s okay,” Yuusuke said. He put his hand in Makoto’s hair ruffling it a little. 

Makoto frowned, unhappy. “But—“

“Makoto, I’m pretty okay with you hitting on me when you’re drunk,” Yuusuke laughed. “And when you’re not. I just meant that it doesn’t always have to be. I’m happy, I swear. I’ll tell you if I’m not.”

Makoto peered at him. Yuusuke did look happy. Happy and drunk and way more like a puppy than Makoto ever looked. Soft and pleased. Makoto gave his chest another pat, lowering his gaze automatically to follow his hand’s movements. Still tall and skinny and built too. Playing volleyball regularly was obviously good for him. Yuusuke tugged at his hair and Makoto looked up again, meeting Yuusuke’s amused eyes. “Hmm?”

“You’re getting sidetracked,” Yuusuke informed him. “Stop petting me and get your pants off.”

Reluctantly Makoto pulled his hand away to do as ordered. He really didn’t like sleeping in his pants. But still. Yuusuke’s chest was very nice to touch. If only he could get undressed while still touching Yuusuke… Maybe he’d take that as a personal challenge for a better coordinated time.

Once they’d both gotten undressed, Yuusuke opened his arms invitingly. “Okay, cuddles.” Makoto rolled into his arms, pressing close with a pleased hum. 

This was nice.

* * *

#### THEN: Makoto at 26

Yuusuke was complaining about traffic, idiot customers, and whatever else he could think of while stirring the soup he was making on Makoto’s stove. He’d turned up after work, bags of groceries in hand, and taken over Makoto’s kitchen without asking permission and barely an hello. 

Makoto was sitting on the bar stool by the counter and watching funny cat videos while letting Yuusuke’s complaints wash over him. He looked up when Yuusuke stabbed the spoon particularly emphatically into the air. There was absolutely no reason this was the moment that made him think fondly ‘fuck, I love him, I want this to happen every day’ but it was.

And then he thought, ‘maybe it could, if I just asked.’ 

Yuusuke looked over at him just then and laughed at his expression. “What? What did I say? Because I swear they deserved it!”

“No, no, I believe you, keep going, I’m listening,” Makoto assured him. 

And that was how it started.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of the fic comes from En Solskinnsdag by Postgirobygget.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you think! I love comments! But just a kudos also makes me happy -- especially on this story which I'm honestly expecting to have a very, very, very narrow audience. So if you got to the end of this, I already love you.
> 
> oh! and if there's something I should be warning for that I haven't, plz let me know!


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